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COFYRiGHT DEPOSIT. 



THE FOUNDATIONS OF NORMAL AND 
ABNORMAL PSYCHOLOGY 



WORKS BY BORIS SIDIS 

The Psychology of Suggestion. 

Multiple Personality. 

Psychopathological Researches. 

The Psychology of Laughter. 

Philistine and Genius. 

An Experimental Study of Sleep. 

The Foundations of Normal and 
Abnormal Psychology. 

Symptomatology, Psychognosis, 

and Diagnosis of Psychopathic Maladies. 

The Causation and Treatment 
of Psychopathic Diseases. 



THE FOUNDATIONS OF 

NORMAL AND ABNORMAL 

PSYCHOLOGY 



BY 



BORIS SIDIS, A. M., Ph.D., M. D. 




BOSTON : RICHARD G. BADGER 

TORONTO : THE COPP CLARK CO., Limited 



Copyright, 1914, by Boris Sidis 



All Rights Reserved 









APR 16 1914 



The Gorham Press, Boston, U. S. A 



i C!,A369724 



To the Memory of My Master and Friend 

WILLIAM JAMES 

Who, being the foremost pioneer in the vast domain of 

the human mind, has generously encouraged others 

in their efforts at clearing fresh trails, leading 

to an ever more comprehensive view of 

the rich varieties of mental life. 



Digitized by the Internet Archive 
in 2011 with funding from 
The Library of Congress 



http://www.archive.org/details/foundationsofnorOOsidi 



PREFACE 

In this volume I made an attempt to formulate the 
fundamental assumptions and main principles that un- 
derlie normal and abnormal psychology. Every science, 
mathematical, physical or biological, has its postulates 
as the foundation of its structure. Psychology as a 
science has also its own assumptions which have to be 
clearly formulated. The object of the first part of this 
volume is the unravelling of the principal concepts and 
hypotheses which form the basis of the study of men- 
tal phenomena. 

All through the domain of the sciences there is a vast 
movement for the search of fundamental concepts and 
for the close investigation of such concepts. Even 
such an exact science as mathematics has felt this spirit 
of examination of its fundamental assumptions, axioms, 
and postulates. Men like Lobatchevsky, Bolyai, Rie- 
man and others have given the start and a number of 
mathematicians have recently followed in their foot- 
steps, with the result of getting a wider horizon and of 
opening unknown regions. The same we find in the 
case of physical sciences, such as physics, mechanics and 
chemistry. Mach, Poincare, Ostwald, Pearson and 
others have contributed to this spirit of investigation in 
the domain of physical sciences. This spirit of inquiry 
has become of late specially intensified by the revolu- 
tionary discoveries of radio-active bodies. 

We are acquainted with the great movement which 
has swept all over biological, sociological, and eco- 
nomical sciences due to the influence of the theory of 

(0 



ii Preface 

evolution. The spirit of free inquiry into fundamental 
concepts has seized on all sciences. Throughout the 
whole domain of human thought there is felt this re- 
juvenating and invigorating breath of the new revolu- 
tionary spirit. Philosophy, ethics, aesthetics, history, 
law, economics all have been awakened out of their 
long sleep of centuries. Every science has been shaken 
by this mighty movement to its very foundation. Even 
such a dry study as logic has left the vital breeze of 
the inquiring spirit of modern times. 

I make an attempt in this volume to examine in an 
elementary way the foundations of normal and abnor- 
mal psychology. This is all the more necessary as phy- 
siologists, biologists, biological chemists, and recently 
students of comparative psychology, a science which lies 
on the borderland of psychology and biology, have a 
tendency to make incursions into psychology proper, 
and favor mechanical or purely physiological concepts 
to the detriment and even total exclusion of mental pro- 
cesses. 

This tendency towards elimination of psychic life 
by mechanical processes or by "The Unconscious" 
is also observed in the writings of some workers in the 
domain of psychopathology. They think it is in the in- 
terest of strict science to express wherever possible men- 
tal states in terms of physical changes. Finally a stage 
is reached in which all consciousness is completely dis- 
pensed with in favor of physiological processes or "The 
Unconscious". Psychology is thus made a branch of 
physiology and biology. 

Again, philosophers and metaphysicians are apt to 
make intrusions into the domain of psychology, because 
the latter is regarded by them from time immemorial 



Preface iii 

as legitimate prey, inasmuch as their own domain lies 
on the outskirts of mental life. In the interest of meta- 
physical systems philosophers attempt to subject psy- 
chology to their own speculative purposes. 

The popular mind has a tendency of regarding psy- 
chology as something mystical and of identifying psy- 
chology with all kinds of faith cures, mind cures, spirit- 
ism, telepathy, telaesthesia, and table rapping. It is 
unfortunate that even medical men of note, on account 
of lack of acquaintance with psychological subjects and 
inquiries, are apt to look askance at psychology and 
identify it with religious beliefs, mental cures as well 
as with the more shady side of spiritistic manifestations. 

Still more complicated is the plight in which the psy- 
chologist finds himself in regard to the recent claims 
put forth by some psychologists in having achieved re- 
sults of importance to law, industry, and to the reforma- 
tion of social ills. The demand for practical results in 
psychology is due to the industrial spirit of our times, a 
spirit which requires immediate results that can be 
cashed or expressed in dollars and cents. The earnest 
psychologist should repudiate such industrial business 
psychology, for the simple reason that such a psycholo- 
gy is imaginary; in other words, such a psychology does 
not exist. An experienced salesman, an intelligent busi- 
ness man knows infinitely more about business and how 
to obtain the best results out of certain combinations 
than all the psychologists with their laboratory experi- 
ments, their artificial statistics, and puerile trivial ex- 
perimental arrangements, giving results no less trivial 
and meaningless. 

The claims made by psychologists as to industrial ef- 
ficiency which psychology can give is ludicrous in the 



iv Preface 

extreme. We may as well expect the astronomer to 
claim that astronomy can give points how to conduct 
successfully a political campaign. As a matter of fact 
the psychologist has nothing to say on the subject of 
advertisements, industry, and business, but common- 
place trivialities expressed with all the pomposity of 
scholastic authority. Industrial efficiency does not be- 
long to the domain of psychology. We may as well ex- 
pect the comparative psychologist to offer practical 
points on the efficiency of cows to give milk or on the 
efficiency of hens to lay eggs. The success of ad- 
vertisement is a matter of experienced business men and 
not of academic psychologists who have to offer nothing 
but the merest platitudes. 

We must once for all enter a protest against those 
psychologists who claim that they have some great psy- 
chological truths to reveal to business men, manufactur- 
er and workingmen. I trust that both the businessman 
and the workingman will have enough common sense 
to take such psychological truths for what they are 
actually worth. The ordinary psychologist under- 
stands little of business life, knows almost nothing of 
the life of the laborer, and is woefully ignorant of the 
economical questions of the times. Psychological busi- 
ness claims are illusory. The sooner the practical busi- 
ness man learns this fact the better for him, and also for 
the earnest psychological investigator. 

Psychology is just emerging from its metaphysical 
and theological stages as Auguste Comte would put it. 
Psychology is just entering the circle of her sister 
sciences. At present it is in a state similar to the phy- 
sics of the sixteenth century. The psychologist should 
declare frankly and openly that he can no more assist 



Preface v 

the businessman and the manufacturer than the mathe- 
matician with his non-Euclidean geometry or the logi- 
cian with his algebra of logic can help the solution of 
the great problems of capital and labor. 

We can obtain some help from abnormal psychology 
in its application to the medical treatment of nervous 
and mental maladies. This is quite natural as abnor- 
mal psychology is essentially based on clinical and ex- 
perimental of mental diseases. The claim, however, 
that psychology can give directions for vocations of life 
or for business and industry is entirely unfounded. 

The same holds true of the practical pseudo-psychol- 
ogy that has invaded the school, the court, the prison 
and the immigration bureau. The intelligence tests 
are silly, pedantic, absurd, and grossly misleading. 

I have not discussed in this volume the practical 
aspect of recent quasi-business psychology for the reason 
that such claims are nothing but a snare and delusion. 
Of course I do not expect that this warning of mine as 
to the misleading character of applied psychology will 
be taken graciously. There is at present an epidemic of 
practical or applied psychology. People however will 
wake up from their psychological dreams and will real- 
ize that applied psychology is nothing but a nightmare. 
I am fully aware of the fact that my present protest will 
draw on me the ire and severe attacks of many a psy- 
chologist, but I sincerely hope that some of the more 
earnest psychologists will sustain me in my present con- 
tention. 

So much for the practical limitations of psychology. 
In discussing the theoretical aspects of psychology and 
attempting to point out its limitations I have had to 
touch on problems ultra-psychological, but this was un- 



vi Preface 

avoidable. It had to be done in order to clear the path 
and see the lay of the land. I have no doubt that there 
will be found a great number of shortcomings in the 
foundations as well as vagueness in the delineation of 
the main postulates and psychological principles. I 
shall be fully satisfied, if this volume will stimulate 
others to better work in the same direction. 

The second part of this work deals with my theory 
of "moment-consciousness." This theory was advanced 
by me some sixteen years ago in my "Psychology of Sug- 
gestion." It was further touched upon in my "Multi- 
ple Personality," but I had not stated the theory as dis- 
tinctly as I did in this volume. I may add that when 
James read the theory in "The Psychology of Sugges- 
tion" he told me he found it valuable, and urged me to 
develop it more in detail. 

The theory of moment-consciousness presents a gen- 
eral view of the nature and development of conscious- 
ness, from reflex consciousness to compound reflex and 
instinctive consciousness reaching the highest form 
of consciousness, that of self-consciousness. Con- 
sciousness and the adaptation of the psychic in- 
dividuality or of the organism to the external en- 
vironment is looked at not only from a psychological, 
but also from a biological standpoint. Consciousness 
in the course of its development is presented in a series 
of stages and types, each lower stage leading to the next 
higher and more complicated stage and type. This does 
not mean that the higher type is included in the lower 
We must assume spontaneous mental variations, or 
psychic mutations, so that while the stages and types are 
arranged in a progressive series of their development 
and complication, they at the same time differ qualita- 



Preface vii 

tively in type of mental life. 

I may add that most of the ideas developed in this 
volume have been formulated by me some fourteen 
years ago, and then retouched from time to time. A 
few of the chapters with some modifications have been 
published by me in various psychological and medical 
journals. 

Boris Sidis. 

Sidis Psychotherapeutic Institute, 
Portsmouth, 
New Hampshire, 
January, ig 14. 



CONTENTS 



PART I 



FUNDAMENTAL CONCEPTS AND 
PRINCIPLES 



CHAPTER 

I. 

II. 

III. 

IV. 

V. 

VI. 

VII. 

VIII. 

IX. 
X. 

XI. 

XII. 

XIII. 

XIV. 

XV. 

XVI. 

XVII. 

XVIII. 



PAGE 

Psychology as a Science . . II 

Physical and Psychic Facts 18 

The Definition of the Psychic Process. 26 

Psychic States as Objects 31 

The Scope of Psychology 36 

The Sources of Psychology 40 

Psychology and Psychopathology .... 45 
The Spiritualistic and Materialistic 

Hypotheses 51 

The Transmission Hypothesis 59 

The Metaphysical Hypotheses of Par- 
allelism 64 

The Unitary Experience of Voluntar- 
ism 67 

The Inductive Basis of the Positive 

Psychological Hypothesis 73 

The Deductive Basis of the Positive 

Psychological Hypothesis ....... 82 

Life and the Psychic Process 87 

The Chance Aspect of Life and Mind. 93 

Activity of Mental Life 10 1 

The Postulates of Psychology 106 

Mental Synthesis 113 



CONTENTS 

CHAPTER PAGE 

XIX. Theories of Perception 119 

XX. The Structure and Function of the 

Percept 126 

XXI. Primary and Secondary Sensory Ele- 
ments 137 

XXII. Secondary Sensory Elements and Hal- 
lucinatory Perception 146 

XXIII. The Attributes of Sensory Elements . . 160 

XXIV. Sensation and External Reality 164 

XXV. The Subconscious and Unconscious 

Cerebration 175 

XXVI. The Subconscious and Automatism. . 186 
XXVII. The Subconscious and the Passive Con- 
sciousness 194 

XXVIII. Subconscious and Unconscious Ideas.. 198 
XXIX. The Subconscious, Conscious and Un- 
conscious 207 

XXX. The Threshold and Mental Systems.. 213 

XXXI. The Principle of Reserve Energy. ... 219 



PART II 

THE THEORY OF THE MOMENT CON- 
SCIOUSNESS 

I. The Moment Consciousness 229 

II. Types of Moments and Moment- 
Threshold 239 

III. Modifications of Moments in the Or- 

ganized Aggregate 249 

IV. Mental Organization 254 

V. The Gr« w th and Function of the Mo- 
ment ...-„. 260 



CONTENTS 

CHAPTER PAGE 

VI. The Relation of the Moment to the 

Environment 265 

VII. The Assimilation of the Moment in 

Normal States 272 

VIII. Abnormal Moments 283 

IX. Mental Continuity and the Psychic 

Gap 287 

X. The Moment-Threshold 297 

XI. The Process of Moment-Disaggrega- 

tion 308 

XII. Reproduction and the Reflex Moment 317 

XIII. Desultory Consciousness 322 

XIV. The Synthetic Moment and its Repro- 

duction 326 

XV. The Accumulative Character of the 

Synthetic Moment 332 

XVI. The Simple and Compound Synthetic 

Moment 337 

XVII. The Desultory Type in Pathological 

States 346 

XVIII. Presentations and Representations... 351 
XIX. Representations and the Laws of their 

Combinations 359 

XX. Representation and Recognition .... 365 
XXI. The Recognitive Moment and its Re- 
production 376 

XXII. The Synthetic Recognitive Moment. . 384 
XXIII. The Synthetic Moment of Self-Con- * 

sciousness 388 

Appendix I. Consciousness 391 

Appendix II. Physiological Traces . 398 

Index 407 



PART I 

FUNDAMENTAL CONCEPTS 

AND PRINCIPLES 



The Foundations of Normal and 
Abnormal Psychology 

CHAPTER I 

PSYCHOLOGY AS A SCIENCE 

WE assume that the reader regards psychol- 
ogy as a science. It is however one thing 
to label a subject as a science and another 
thing to understand clearly in what sense 
the term science is used in the case of psychology. A 
clear understanding of the nature of science is here of 
special importance on account of the peculiar position 
psychology occupies in the hierarchy of human knowl- 
edge. It is therefore desirable to define the meaning 
of science before we proceed to discuss the subject mat- 
ter of psychology. 

Science is the description of phenomena and the 
formulation of their relations. Science describes facts 
and formulates their relations in laws. The task of 
science is first to formulate facts belonging to the same 
type, and then to generalize them, that is to express 
their general relationship by one comprehensive for- 
mula, in spite of the many individual variations in the 
phenomena. Thus in geometry, possibly the most an- 
cient of all sciences, many isolated and important facts 
were already known to the semi-civilized nations of 
antiquity, but it required the rationalizing spirit of the 

II 



12 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

Greek mind to classify and generalize the facts into 
theorems, the laws of space. Many important proper- 
ties of the right-angled triangle, for instance, were al- 
ready known to the ancient Chaldeans and Egyptians. 
They knew that if in a right-angled triangle the two 
sides are respectively three and four, the hypothenuse 
must be five and so on; that is, they knew only con- 
crete facts, but what they lacked was just the scientific 
side. It required a Pythagoras to discover that in all 
right-angled triangles the sum of the squares of the 
two sides is equal to the square of the third. No mat- 
ter what the size of the triangle be, no matter how dif- 
ferent in length its sides are, once the triangle be of the 
same type, namely right-angular, the same general re- 
lationship must obtain. 

To take an illustration from physics. Falling 
bodies form one type of movement. Now the bod- 
ies themselves may be different in kind, in nature, 
may be of various material, may differ widely in 
structure, weight, and shape, and still, since they 
all belong to the same type of motion, they are, in 
spite of their manifold diversity, expressed in one gen- 
eral formula, in one law, namely, that the spaces tra- 
versed are proportional to the square of times. 

In other less exact sciences the facts are exhaustively 
described and a general statement is formulated as to 
their relationship. In physiology, for instance, we find 
mainly descriptions of facts classified into types, the 
relationships of which are expressed in general for- 
mulae, or laws. Thus in the cerebro-spinal nervous sys- 
tem, each part and its functions are described as fully as 
possible, and then all the facts are brought under one 
comprehensive formula such as the reflex arc. In em- 



Psychology as a Science 13 

bryology the different changes of the embryo are 
minutely described, classified into types, into a certain 
number of definite stages, and then all the changes, in 
the infinite wealth of their variety, are expressed in the 
general proposition that the embryo in the short period 
of its development traverses in an abbreviated form all 
the stages that the species has passed through in the 
many ages of its existence; all the changes are general- 
ized in the formula that the ontogenetic series is an epi- 
tome of phylogenetic evolution. We may, therefore, say 
that science is a description of types of facts, the rela- 
tionships of which are expressed in general comprehen- 
sive formulae, or laws. It is in this sense that we un- 
derstand psychology to be a science; it classifies phe- 
nomena into types and searches for the general expres- 
sion of their relations, or for what is termed psycho- 
logical laws. 

We must come to something more precise and defi- 
nite. We said that psychology deals with classification 
and generalizations of phenomena; but what are these 
phenomena? In the different branches of science, we 
find that each one has a determinate order of phenom- 
ena to deal with, a definite subject matter. Thus ge-- 
ometry deals with spatial facts, mechanics with motion, 
physics with changes of molecular aggregations, chem- 
istry with atomic combinations and their mutations, 
physiology with processes going to make the equilib- 
rium of organic life, sociology with phenomena of so- 
cial life, and so it is in the case of all other sciences. 
Now what is the subject matter of psychology? What 
are the facts, the phenomena with which psychology 
deals? — Psychology deals with facts of consciousness. 

On the very threshold of our discussion, we may be 



14 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

stopped by the pertinent question: "You say that 
psychology deals with facts of consciousness, but what 
is consciousness?" — Consciousness is subjective facts, 
such as the elements of sensation, feelings, pains, 
thoughts, acts of willing and the like. Positive science 
must have given facts, data to work upon; these data 
it analyzes, describes, classifies into types and seeks to 
find the formulae of their relationships. Psychology 
can accomplish no more than any other science. The 
data of psychology are facts of consciousness, these facts 
are analyzed into their simplest elements, and the laws 
of their relations are searched for. But psychology does 
not, and legitimately cannot possibly go beyond con- 
sciousness. Consciousness is the ultimate datum which 
psychology must assume as given and which is from 
a psychological standpoint unanalyzable. Conscious- 
ness must be postulated, if we wish to enter the temple 
of psychology. 

In this relation psychology is as positive as the rest 
of her sister sciences. Geometry, a science to which 
no one will deny exactness, deals as we know with the 
laws of space-relations. Should we ask the geometrician 
the same question just put to the psychologist: You 
say that your science, geometry, deals with facts of 
space and their relations, but what is space ? The geo- 
metrician will smile at us. He will tell us that by space 
he means such forms as lines, angles, triangles, quadri- 
laterals, circles, cubes, cylinders, pyramids, etc. Should 
we persist and ask further, "Yes, that is true, but all 
these are so many forms of space, what is the space it- 
self with which you deal?" The geometrician will no 
doubt answer : "My dear sir, geometry deals with facts 
of space, space itself is taken as an ultimate datum. The 



Psychology as a Science 15 

work of geometry is not to ask what space is in itself, 
but what the relations are of spatial forms, space itself 
being postulated." 

Mechanics deals with the laws of energy and motion, 
physics with molecular changes of matter, but neither 
physics nor mechanics would have gone far, had they 
stopped to answer the questions as to what motion, 
energy, matter are in themselves. These are simply post- 
ulated, taken for granted, they are the ultimate data of 
these sciences. In this respect psychology does not 
differ from other sciences, it takes its subject matter as 
given and does not inquire as to what the nature of the 
material is in itself. The reader must remember that 
the question as to what things are in themselves is not 
at all a question of positive sciences, but of metaphysics. 
I do not mean in any way to detract from the dignity 
of metaphysics, what I wish is simply to point out the 
limits of positive science. The problem as to what things 
are in themselves does not fall within the province of 
science, but within the domain of metaphysical re- 
search. 

The question as to the nature of consciousness, what 
it is in itself, may be a very important one, but it lies 
outside the ken of psychology, just as the laws of aes- 
thetics do not concern the chemist, although the latter 
may be a great lover of beauty. In the contemplation 
and enjoyment of a beautiful picture he will not intro- 
duce a chemical formula, and in his chemical experi- 
ments he will not introduce aesthetic considerations. The 
same holds true in the case of psychology. The psy- 
chologist may be a metaphysician, but in his psycholog- 
ical work he must keep clear of metaphysics. Conscious- 
ness therefore is a presupposition, a postulate of psy- 



1 6 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

chology. 

There is one more important assumption which psy- 
chology must start with in order to be a positive sci- 
/ ence at all, namely, uniformity. Under similar condi- 
tions like results follow. Suppose a geometrician should 
prove to you that the sum of the three angles of a tri- 
angle is equal to two right angles, suppose that some 
sceptic should come in and say, "Yes, that is all right in 
relation to the triangles in this particular space, in 
another portion of space, on some other star, or planet 
the theorem will not hold good." The only answer the 
geometrician could give is that we must assume that 
space is uniform, so that wherever we form our tri- 
angles we obtain the same results. The same is true 
in mechanics. The laws of motion and inertia hold 
good of the pebble on the roadside, of the dust grains 
dancing in the sunbeam, and of distant stars in the milky 
way. Uniformity of relations among phenomena must 
be postulated, if science is to be at all. If under the 
same conditions different results follow, science would 
have been an impossibility. Uniformity of nature is 
one of the most fundamental postulates of science. Psy- 
chology assumes uniformity; it assumes that there exist 
constant uniform types of mental activity with definite 
relations that can be formulated into psychological laws. 
Thus psychology at the very outset postulates conscious- 
ness and uniformity of mental phenomena. 

We can now see in what relation psychology which 
deals with phenomena of consciousness differs from 
philosophy whose subject matter is also consciousness. 
Philosophy has no postulates, psychology, like all other 
sciences, must have its postulates which it cannot tran- 
scend. Philosophy deals with the ultimate in conscious- 



Psychology as a Science 17 

ness, it investigates the very postulates of conscious ac- 
tivity. Psychology on the contrary accepts the facts of 
consciousness as ultimate data. 



CHAPTER II 

PHYSICAL AND PSYCHIC FACTS 

PSYCHOLOGY we said deals with facts of con« 
sciousness, but this is too broad a statement, 
for there are other sciences that also deal with 
facts of consciousness, such as ethics, aesthet- 
ics, logic. In what respect does psychology differ from 
these sciences? It differs in this that ethics, aesthetics 
* and logic are normative regulative sciences; psychology 
is a positive natural science. Ethics deals with ideals 

• of moral life, aesthetics with ideals of beauty, and logic 
with ideal ways of correct reasoning. All these sciences 

• deal with ideals, with norms to which the matter of fact 
consciousness ought to conform, if it is to act rightly. 
They put a value on the phenomena. Psychology, how- 
ever, like all other natural sciences has no other ideal 
than fact, it admits of no "ought." From a strictly 
psychological standpoint, the ugly and the beautiful, the 
good and the evil, the true and the false are of equal 
value. Psychologically they are all facts of conscious- 
ness and must be studied as such; just as the serpent 
and the dove are of equal interest and value to the nat- 
uralist. The ravings of a maniac are of the same psycho- 
logical interest and value as the subtle reasoning of a 
Newton. Psychology is a positive natural science, it does 
not deal with the subjective evaluation of facts of con- 
sciousness, but with their objective natural existence. 

Having shown in what psychology agrees with other 
positive natural sciences, we must now point out in what 

18 



Physical and Psychic Facts 19 

it differs from them. Psychology deals with phenomena 
of consciousness as facts of objective natural existence. 
Are these facts of the same order with those of the 
physical world, the subject matter of the natural phys- 
ical sciences? We must answer in the negative. The 
objects of the natural sciences of the physical world are 
of a material and spatial nature. A physical body has 
weight, occupies a certain portion of space, so has the 
molecule, the atom. Can we say the same of psy- 
chological facts? By no means. They are different 
in kind, and this I wish especially to impress on the 
mind of the reader. To realize this truth, I think it 
a good preliminary psychological exercise for the reader 
to try to find how many grams, or grains his idea 
of beauty weighs, how many millimeters long, wide and 
high his feelings of love are; let him indulge in the 
fancy of conceiving an engineer building a bridge with 
mathematical formulae as links, and his feelings of vir- 
tue and patriotism as supports. On the other hand let 
him think of a logician trying to fill up the defects of 
his train of reasoning with solid bricks, and using as 
connecting links bars of pig iron. In short, psychol- 
ogy differs from physical sciences in this, that its facts, 
the facts of consciousness are not of a material nature. 
"Do not physical sciences" it may be asked "deal with 
such phenomena as sound and light?" Certainly they 
do, but these sciences regard these phenomena from 
a standpoint radically different from that of psychology. 
Sound in physics is not the sensation sound, but the 
external, material vibration of air, which may or may 
not give rise to a sensation of hearing. The same holds 
true in the case of light. What physics investigates is 
not light as sensation, but vibrations of ether which 



20 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

may or may not give rise to a sensation of sight. It is, 
however, just such facts as sensations, facts not spatial 
in their nature which constitute the subject matter of 
psychology. 

"May not facts of consciousness be some kind of mat- 
ter, some form of material substance the constitution of 
which we do not as yet know ?" Such was the question 
put by a medical man, when he heard me expounding 
the difference in kind between physical and psychical 
facts. "That might be" I answered, "but then that 
substance, if it ever be discovered, will not have the 
properties of matter; it will be a "matter" totally 
different in kind from that studied by the physicist. For 
the "matter" of physical sciences is essentially one of 
extension; a matter however that occupies no space is 
an existence altogether different in kind from that of 
extended things, and is certainly no "matter" for the 
physicist. 

The persistent antagonist may raise here a further 
objection. "Are not the phenomena of consciousness" 
he may ask "facts of activity? And is not activity, 
kinetic energy? And if this be the case must not the 
facts of consciousness be ranged along with physical 
phenomena, be reduced to the manifestations and trans- 
formations of kinetic energy and thus really and ulti- 
mately fall within the domain of the mechanical sci- 
ences?" 

Change certainly is manifested in the mutations of 
states of consciousness, but this change is not the phys- 
ical change of translocation. Change in the states of con- 
sciousness may no doubt, be regarded as activity, and 
if you please as energy, but this activity is not the en- 
ergy of mechanics. Activity in mechanical or physical 



Physical and Psychic Facts 21 

sciences means molar, molecular, or atomic movement 
of matter through space, while psychic activity is not a 
translation of matter through space, a thought is not a 
material mass having extension, weight and locomotion. 
This truth, simple as it may appear, cannot be too 
often repeated and too strongly emphasized, since one 
frequently meets with this fallacy of "thought-materiali- 
zation" in the world of psychiatry. Words are often mis- 
leading and the metaphorical expression "mental en- 
ergy" is taken in its literal meaning of mechanical en- 
ergy. While I am writing these lines I find in one of 
the number of the Russian "Archives of Psychiatry and 
Neurology" edited by Prof. Kowalevsky, an article, 
in which an attempt is made to express mental activity 
in terms of mechanical energy. The writer might as 
well attempt to change inches into pounds. He who 
undertakes the examination and study of mental phe- 
nomena must bear in mind the simple and important, 
but frequently forgotten truth, that facts of conscious- 
ness are not of a physical, mechanical character. 

Against our view may be urged the fact that in 
proportion as a science tends to become exact, it takes 
on more a quantitative aspect, its phenomena are re- 
duced to molecular or atomic changes. If now psy- 
chology is a science at all, it will reach its exactness, 
when it can be expressed in terms of matter and motion, 
so that the phenomena presented by consciousness, al- 
though at present impenetrable to our imperfect instru- 
ments and methods of investigation, must ultimately 
be reduced, in some way or other, to mechanical terms. 
Psychology has not yet had its Galileo. 

This objection may be easily disposed of by the simple 
answer that the exactness of science is not at all in pro- 



22 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

portion to its degree of reduction to terms of matter 
and motion. No one will deny that mathematics is an 
exact science, but is it exact because it is reduced to me- 
chanical terms? While mechanics must be logical, logic 
is not mechanical. 

Within certain limits this generalization of the re- 
lation of scientific exactness to mechanical formulae 
may be fully granted, if it be restricted to the concrete 
physical sciences, but it cannot possibly hold good in 
case of psychology, as the latter does not fall within 
the circle of the physical sciences. 

The weakness of this last objection from scientific 
exactness becomes clearly disclosed, if we get a little 
deeper into the matter. The reason why there is such 
a persistent tendency to reduce science to mechanical 
terms is based on the tacit understanding that atoms 
and motion are the only ultimate realities. We see at 
a glance that this consideration is at bottom purely 
metaphysical; it is a consideration which science has 
not to take into account. Nothing is so dogmatically 
metaphysical as just the common sense that has an ab- 
horrence of metaphysics. That atoms and their motions 
are the only ultimate realities is certainly metaphysics 
and bad metaphysics too, as it is unguarded by reflective 
critical thought. Since this unreflective metaphysics of 
atomism is widely spread in the medical world, and is 
considered scientific, one cannot help discussing it, point- 
ing out its deficiencies, showing up the obstacles it puts 
in the way of positive science. Metaphysics is a branch 
of philosophy which deals with the nature of reality. 
As philosophy it accepts no unanalyzed concepts; un- 
like science it has no postulates taken blindly on faith. 
The proposition now before us, namely that atoms and 



Physical and Psychic Facts 23 

their motion are ultimate realities, is bad metaphysics, 
because it is a blind unanalyzed postulate. How do we 
know that atoms and their motions are ultimate reali- 
ties? Why not ask what is reality? Once we are on 
metaphysical ground, why not take it in real earnest? 
Why stop on atoms and motions? Atoms themselves 
are not ultimate simple units, they have shape, size, 
weight. Now shape, size, weight, what are they after 
all? They are so many resultants of masses of tactual, 
visual and muscular sensations, which are as little ulti- 
mate as are the sensations of color or of pain. It is 
out of sensations, percepts and ideas that the concept 
"atom" is framed. Subtract from the atom its sensa- 
tional, perceptual and ideational elements, abstract from 
it its shape, size, weight and the ultimate reality of the 
atoms will become a bare nothing. The atom there- 
fore is ultimately resolved into terms of consciousness. 
The same holds true in case of motion. Motion is a 
mental product of what is known as muscular and retin- 
al sensations. What is most ultimately known is only 
consciousness and its facts. The atom and its motions 
are after all nothing else but constructs of consciousness. 
From the standpoint of epistemology, or what the Ger- 
mans call "Erkenntnisstheorie," we have only a 
double series of mental phenomena, one standing for 
the internal and the other for the external world, and 
not atoms, but mental life may be regarded as the ulti- 
mate reality. 

From a strictly scientific standpoint, however, we 
have no right to resolve matter into mind or still less 
mind into matter, because the two are presented to con- 
sciousness as different in kind, even though they both 
may belong to a general consciousness. Between the 



24 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

two series of facts, the physical and the psychical, there 
exists a fundamental difference. The door yonder is 
covered with white paint, the inkstand before me is 
made of glass, is round, is heavy, is black, but my idea 
of the door is not covered with white paint, my idea 
of the inkstand is neither made of glass, nor round, nor 
heavy, nor black. In short, the facts of consciousness 
are not spatial. 

A fallacy prevalent among the medical profession and 
now also extant among the populace is the placing of 
psychic life in the brain. The neurologist, the patholo- 
gist ridicule the old Greek belief that the place of the 
mind is in the heart. Modern science has discoverd that 
the heart is nothing but a hollow muscle, a blood pump 
at best, the place of mental processes is in the brain. 
This medical belief now circulating in the popular and 
semi-scientific literature of to-day differs but little 
from the ancient Greek belief, it is just as fallaci- 
ous and superstitious. It is true that psychic life is 
a concomitant variable function of nervous processes 
and brain activity, but neurosis is not the cause of 
psychosis. The brain does not secrete thought as the 
liver secrets bile. The mind is not in the brain, nor 
in fact is the mind anywhere in the universe of space; 
for psychosis is not at all a physical spatial process. 

As fallacious and superstitious is the recent tendency 
of medical investigation to localize psychic processes, to 
place different psychic processes in different seats or 
localities of the brain, thus implying that each psychic 
process respectively is placed inside some cerebral cen- 
tre or nerve cells. Psychic life is no doubt the conco- 
mitant of nervous brain activity, and certain psychic 
processes may depend on definite local brain processes, 



Physical and Psychic Facts 25 

but the given psychic process is not situated in a definite 
brain centre, nor for that matter is it situated anywhere 
in space. 



CHAPTER III 

THE DEFINITION OF THE FSYCHIC PROCESS 

THE definition thus far given of psychic life 
is rather of a negative character. We de- 
fined the psychic phenomenon in opposition 
to the physical phenomenon. Physical phe- 
nomena are in space, psychic phenomena are not spatial. 
Now a negative definition may to many prove rather 
unsatisfactory. It is, therefore, desirable to define 
psychic phenomena in more positive terms. 

It is now the tendency to define the physical process 
in social terms and the psychic process in terms of indi- 
vidual cognition. A physical phenomenon is defined as 
one common to many minds, while a psychic phenomenon 
is an object of an individual consciousness. I think 
that such a view of the external physical object, as that 
which is common to many minds in contrast to the 
psychic or that belonging to an individual mind only 
is incorrect from a purely psychological standpoint. 
Psychologically considered the characteristic trait of a 
physical object is not that it is common, but that it is 
external. The tree yonder is to me a physical object, 
not because it is common to many minds, but because I 
perceive it as external, the sensory elements of the per- 
ception carry with them external objectivity. 

The social perception of an object may be one of the 
criteria of external reality, but certainly not the only one, 
and surely not the chief one. In perceiving an object I 
do not consider it as a physical object, because I know 

26 



The Definition of the Psychic Process 27 

that it is common to my fellow-beings, but because the 
very psychic process of perception gives the immediate 
knowledge of externality. An object is considered as 
physical, not because of its social aspect, but because of 
its perceived external aspect. Had my perception of the 
house yonder been a hallucination, I would have still 
seen it as external and therefore regarded as a physical 
object; and should this hallucination furthermore be 
confirmed by the testimony of all my other senses, 
should I be able to touch it, press against it and feel re- 
sistance, knock myself on it and feel concussion and pain, 
and have a series of tactual and muscular sensations by 
walking into it and around it, and should I further have 
this hallucination of all the senses every time I come 
to this identical spot, the object would be to me an 
external physical object, and no amount of social con- 
tradiction could and would make it different. Regarded 
from a psychical standpoint an object is considered as 
physical, not because it is common to other minds, but 
because it is projected as extensive and external to mind. 
Not community, but extension, externality is the psy- 
chological criterion of the physical object. 

It is true that community of object is one of the cri- 
teria of external reality, but it is certainly not true that 
the community of the object gives rise to the perception 
of externality. It may, on the contrary, be claimed, and 
possibly with far better reason, that it is the object's 
externality that gives rise to its community. 

The child in its growth learns to discriminate be- 
tween things and persons. Persons move, act, make 
adaptations, while things are moved, acted upon, adapt- 
ed to; persons initiate movements, things do not; per- 
sons are prime movers and it is to them that one has to 



28 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

look up in the satisfaction of needs and in the acquisi- 
tion and use of things. As against persons things are 
contrasted as impersonal. Gradually the child learns 
to include himself within the class of persons, — his 
hopes, wishes and desires come in contact, as well as in 
conflict with those of other persons, and he learns more 
and more of inner life and activity with which he finally 
identifies all personality. Personality is more and more 
stripped of the thing aspect until the inner mental life, 
especially in its will aspect, remains as its sole charac- 
teristic. Persons are wilier s, and it is these wills which 
are of the utmost importance for the child to learn as 
the fulfillment of his will depends on them. He then 
learns to class himself within the category of willers; 
he himself is a wilier. Impersonal things, falling out- 
side and being contrasted with the class of willers, are 
conceived as independent of persons. 

Moreover, while from the very nature of the case 
each wilier bears to things a direct relation, his relation 
to other willers is only to be established through things. 
Wills come in contact not through the mere fact of will- 
ing, but through their relations to things. Coming in 
direct relation with things, things alone give direct ex- 
perience, experience in its first intention. In other words, 
only things give rise to sensation or rather perception; 
hence sensory life with its time and space experience giv- 
ing rise to externality is the criterion of the universe of 
things, conceived as independent of will. Only thing is 
external, will is not. Wills, however, can come in rela- 
tion through things, and only through the same things; 
the universe of things must be a common one to all the 
wills, if these wills are to come into relation at all. In 
other words, the physical universe, genetically regarded, 



The Definition of the Psychic Process 29 

is external not because it is common, but it is common, 
because it is external. 

The definition of the physical object as that which is 
common to many minds and of the psychic object as that 
which is present to one mind only is not acceptable, 
since it postulates the result of complicated epis- 
temological reflection and psychological research, still 
very doubtful in themselves, at the very outset of the 
science of psychology. It may be that the world is noth- 
ing but consciousness and that the physical universe is 
nothing but the social object of many minds; still all this 
belongs to the domain of epistemology and metaphysics. 
The psychologist deals with phenomena and not with 
the "really existent." Standing on the ground of psy- 
chology the psychologist has no right to reduce the 
physical world to psychic terms; in fact, such a pro- 
cedure would undermine his science, as all distinction 
between psychic and physical facts would become oblit- 
erated. For if by an "object" common to many minds 
we mean an object external to those minds, then we gain 
nothing at all by introducing the "many," it is just this 
"external" that has to be defined; if by the "common 
object" we mean an object psychic in its character, but 
only of a social nature, then we reduce the physical uni- 
verse to consciousness and thus identify physical and 
psychic processes. Such identification is an obliteration 
of the opposition between the psychic and physical facts, 
an opposition with which the psychologist must set out, 
if he is to place psychology in the hierarchy of natural 
sciences. The psychologist must postulate the existence 
of an external physical world, just as the geometrician 
postulates space or the mechanician matter and mo- 
tion. 



30 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

It is the task of the epistemologist and metaphy- 
sician to inquire into the nature of that physical world 
whether it really exists independent of consciousness. 
Without, therefore, going into metaphysical considera- 
tions, I think it is best to define the physical phenomenon 
as the object or process conceived as being independent 
of consciousness, while the psychic object or process is 
one that is conceived as being directly dependent on 
consciousness. It seems to me that this definition has 
the merits of being positive as the one given by the 
representatives of the idealistic school; it has not the 
defects of bringing in irrelevant metaphysical and epis- 
temological considerations; and it has furthermore the 
advantage of being fully in accord with the data and 
postulates of psychology. 



CHAPTER IV 

PSYCHIC STATES AS OBJECTS 

THE attacks may now be renewed from quite 
a different direction. We asserted that psy- 
chology deals with facts of objective, natural 
existence, the subject matter of science in gen- 
eral. How does it rhyme, it may be asked, with the con- 
clusion just arrived at, namely, that the facts of psychol- 
ogy are different from those with which other natural 
sciences deal ? To this may be answered that facts may 
agree in being objective, and still differ widely as to 
kind, — a square and a man, a pound and a mile, are all 
objective, and still their difference is certainly a funda- 
mental one. 

An objection may be raised that may to some appear 
as a very grave one. Is psychology a science at all? 
Does it actually deal with objective natural existence? 
Physics, chemistry and other concrete sciences treat of 
objects, of facts, in the external world. Any one can 
go and verify those phenomena and their relations. This, 
however, is not the case with facts of consciousness, they 
are essentially subjective. Psychology, therefore, prop- 
erly speaking, is not a science in the same sense as other 
sciences are. This objection may be easily obviated by 
the very simple consideration that the facts of any indi- 
vidual consciousness are as much objective to other peo- 
ple, as the chair, the table, the molecule, the atom. My 
individual consciousness is considered by others as ex- 
ternal, as objective, as existing outside of their con- 

31 



32 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

sciousness, and, in fact, were it not so, there would have 
been no individuality. 

After this lengthy discussion we at last arrive at the 
conclusion, that although the facts which psychology 
treats of are not of a material, physical nature, they are 
none the less objective in character. Objective however, 
as the facts are, they are not independent of conscious- 
ness in the same way as the objects of the external world 
are regarded, they are essentially facts of consciousness. 

"What is the relation," it may be asked, "of psychol- 
ogy to the physical and biological sciences?" The 
physical and biological sciences constitute a system of 
knowledge of the material world. Psychology investi- 
gates the genesis of this knowledge. Mechanics, for 
example, treats of motion and space. Psychology in- 
vestigates not what motion and space are in themselves, 
but what the elementary acts of consciousness are out 
of which the space and time perceptions are developed. 

The different objects which other sciences treat of 
may be regarded psychologically, and studied from the 
standpoint of their rise and development in conscious- 
ness. For objects to be known at all must first be per- 
ceived or conceived by consciousness. Psychology im- 
plies knowledge of the physical world as the content 
of consciousness. In order to know how perception and 
conception of objects originate, those objects must first 
of all be given. A thing that is not yet in existence can- 
not possibly be analyzed. It is only when knowledge 
of objects is already formed that one can begin to think 
about knowledge itself, how it originated and how it 
came to be in the shape possessed by the knowing mind. 
Physical sciences are in that relation independent of 
psychology, the former can be carried on to a high 



Psychic States as Objects 33 

degree of perfection without any knowledge of psychol- 
ogy, while psychology without knowledge of the physic- 
al world would simply lack subject matter. 

Apart, however, from the fact that psychology 
has as its subject matter the objects of physical sciences 
as perceived by and developed in consciousness, it also 
studies the forms, the character, the way of working of 
consciousness, it formulates the laws of how conscious- 
ness works, and analyzes into simplest elements and 
their combinations, the rich material that goes to make 
up the mental life of individual existence, or what is 
known as mind. 

The postulated objective reality acts upon the given 
individual consciousness and gives rise to mental states 
which along with the objective representation of that 
reality has also its own coloring, its own subjective side. 
The represented object floats so to say in a stream of 
consciousness. The subject matter which the psycholo- 
gist investigates is not the objective reality itself, but 
objective states of consciousness. 

We may represent the relation of the psychologist to 
his object of study by the following series : 

1 2 3 

The objective The represented The subjective 

reality. object. stream. 

4 5 

The objective The psychologist, 
state of con- 
sciousness. 

We must be on our guard and not confuse objective 



34 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

thought, the thought of the object, and the object of 
thought. The three differ fundamentally, and the 
standpoints from which the matter is regarded must be 
constantly kept in view. The thought contemplates and 
holds the object by the function of knowledge it pos- 
sesses, but the knowledge constituting the thought and 
the object of that thought are totally different in their 
nature. The object in the external world may undergo 
change, but the thought that got hold of the object may 
still persist, or on the other hand, the thought may 
change and the object still remain the same; or again 
the thoughts and the object may both change. As I am 
writing these lines a red book lying on my table strongly 
attracts my attention, and for the time being consti- 
tutes the object of my thought. I can close my eyes and 
continue to represent to myself the red book, its color, 
its size, its content, in short all about the red book, the 
red book constituting so to say the "focal-object" of my 
thought constantly renewing itself by the fresh material 
which it draws from the surrounding marginal stream. 
Meanwhile the book may be changed, the cover may be 
torn, the pages may be mutilated, the book may be burnt 
or substituted by another body or by a totally different 
object, say an ink-stand; or on the other hand, the 
book may remain lying on my desk undisturbed, but my 
thought may change. I may begin to think of some- 
thing else, say of the coming election or the Spanish war; 
or both the book and thoughts may change, the book 
may be taken away and I at the same time may think 
of something else, say of the watch and its mechanism. 
The cognizant thought that possesses the object and 
the object of that thought are from a purely scientific 
psychological standpoint, independent variables. 



Psychic States as Objects 35 

Thought itself with its object may in its turn become 
an object of thought, and here once more the same rela- 
tions obtain. The contemplations or psychological an- 
alysis of a thought must be discriminated from the 
thought as the material or object of that analysis. From 
the confusion of these different aspects many a fallacy 
results. Thus the schematic incessant change in the flow 
of objective time is confused with the state of conscious- 
ness having time as its object, and the attributes of one 
are fallaciously ascribed as undergoing continuous 
change. Another fallacy often committed by the so- 
called "new psychology" is the substitution of the 
attributes of the object for those of the functioning 
thought. 



CHAPTER V 

THE SCOPE OF PSYCHOLOGY 

PSYCHOLOGY, we said, deals with states of 
consciousness, but these states are not indepen- 
dent, floating in the air so to say. They are in 
connection with some material existence, and 
not with physical reality as a whole, but with some 
definite individual body. We must keep in mind that 
psychology is first of all a natural science, and the only 
thing it has to take into consideration is experience. 
Now as a matter of fact we never find a thought, an 
idea, a sensation setting up on its own hook and having 
complete independence of all physical reality. Were 
even such a thing possible, we could not know of it, 
because the only way we come to know of other thoughts 
is through their physical activities perceived by our sense 
organs. We know of the existence of other individual 
hate, love, anger, friendship, kindness by the physical 
expressions of those feelings, by the acts that accom- 
pany them. We know of the thoughts, of the emotions, 
of our companions, by the muscular expressions of the 
face, by the changes in the brilliancy of the eye, by the 
general bodily state, such as quietness or restlessness, by 
their gestures, by many other physical expressions, but 
principally by means of those physical manifestations 
known as speech. Were all those concomitant physical 
processes absent, there would have been no means what- 
ever of knowing of the very existence of external states 
of consciousness. As an empirical science psychology 

36 



The Scope of Psychology 37 

studies only such states of consciousness as are connected 
with physical reality, or truer to say with some indi- 
vidualized physical being. In short, psychology treats 
of states of consciousness as dependent on or connected 
with the corporeal individual. 

The meaning of the concept "corporeal individual" 
must not be left in a vague state. From a purely me- 
chanical standpoint we may say, that a corporeal indi- 
vidual is a closely interrelated system of material parts 
forming a more or less stable equilibrium. This equilib- 
rium is constantly being interfered with, by the forces of 
the external environment, but as long as that equilibrium 
maintains itself in resisting the disaggregating influences 
of external forces, it may practically be considered as a 
corporeal individual. In other words, a corporeal indi- 
vidual is a system of material parts organically inter- 
connected, and functioning as one determinate whole. 
Any living being will answer our definition. From the 
lowest stage to the highest; from the monocellular 
amoeba to the highest, most complicated multicellular 
organism, we meet with the same fundamental traits, 
characteristic of what we term the "corporeal individ- 
ual." Now it is the mental states of the corporeal in- 
dividual that psychology investigates and studies. 

In our last discussion we have come to the conclusion 
that consciousness depends on the corporeal individual 
and can only be known from physical, bodily manifes- 
tations. Each living being manifests some activity in its 
reactions to the stimuli of the external environment. 
Now what are the reactions characteristic of conscious- 
ness? Where are the distinctive marks that stamp a 
physical manifestation with the impress of psychic 
states? The only sure way to tell is by purposive ac- 



38 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

tivity. We know that our neighbor is conscious, because 
of his active purposive life. When a fly is on his nose, 
he raises his hand and brushes it away; he knows how 
to walk and preserve equilibrium ; avoids obstacles ; lives 
in a house for protection from the changes of weather 
and from harmful intruders; seeks shelter from rain; 
dresses himself warmly on a frosty winter day; a thou- 
sand other movements ail of them expressive of pur- 
posive activity tell us of our neighbor's consciousness, 
intelligence. The stone on the road changes its place 
according to the influences of incident forces ; the grain 
of dust is blown hither and thither by the wind; they 
do not show a more or less definite purposive activity 
under changing circumstances. The disturbance of their 
equilibrium does not stimulate them to induce changes 
in the external environment, changes that would tend to 
restore that lost equilibrium. They, therefore, have no 
purpose. For a purpose is the tendency to realize 
some external action which is useful or indispensable to 
the life-existence of the particular individual being. The 
tendency to the maintenance of a definite activity in op- 
position to the onset of disturbing forces of the environ- 
ment in order to restore the lost equilibrium, may be 
considered as the universal formula for purposive life 
in general. 

This formula holds true of all animal life. The 
man in running after the car has purpose, so has 
the cat in chasing the mouse, so has the deer in flee- 
ing from the hunter. The very amoeba, that lump of 
protoplasm, in extending its pseudopodia to draw in the 
bit of nutriment, possesses the germ of purposive activ- 
ity, and some primitive psychic state must therefore be 
ascribed to it. Life is essentially purposive in its na- 



The Scope of Psychology 39 

ture. Wherever, therefore, we meet with life, there 
some form of psychic state, however primitive and ele- 
mentary, must be present. Psychic states stand in the 
most intimate relationship to life activity. The two in 
fact cannot be separated. Psychosis is concomitant with 
biosis. Psychologists as well as physiologists all agree 
thus far, that there is no psychosis without neurosis; 
some go further and affirm that there is no neurosis 
without psychosis; I think, we are closer to the truth, 
if we advance still further and assume, that there is no 
biosis without psychosis. Psychic states must be pre- 
dicated not only of highly organized animals, possessed 
of a nervous system, but also of the most elementary 
monocellular organisms. 

The evolutionist especially must accept our last con- 
clusion, for he will agree that consciousness did not 
come into existence per saltum, he will acknowledge that 
the germs of conscious life characteristic of the highest 
organized being must already be present in the lowest 
types of life, out of which developed the higher, the 
more complex organisms. 

We are now in a position to define the scope of psy- 
chology. 

Psychology is the science of psychic states both as to 
content and form, regarded from an objective stand- 
point, and brought in relation to the living corporeal in- 
dividual. 



CHAPTER VI 

THE SOURCES OF PSYCHOLOGY 

FACTS of consciousness, we pointed out, are the 
subject matter of psychology. The question 
arises as to the sources of the facts. The botan- 
ist, when he wishes to carry out a series of ex- 
periments, goes into the herbarium or into the field to 
gather the material for his study. The entomologist 
collects his specimens on the street, field, and forest. The 
same holds true in the case of all other sciences. The 
external world is infinitely rich, it is an inexhaustible 
mine from which physical science draws its facts. Now 
what are the sources of the psychologist? The psychol- 
ogist cannot possibly go out into the forest, catch his 
specimens, dry them, and pin them for his observation 
and study. 

This question as to the sources of psychology 
comes to us with greater force, when we realize, 
that psychological facts are not of the same order with 
those of the rest of natural physical sciences. It is, of 
course, evident that we must draw our material from 
consciousness, but where shall we turn to find the facts? 
Where are the particular localities from which we can 
work out and bring to light mental facts? Such is the 
difficult question that arises before the mind of the 
scientist, who has been trained in the school of concrete 
natural science. He finds himself helpless. The neurol- 
ogist to whom a psychological training is truly invalu- 
able, finds himself ill at ease when in his investigations 

40 



The Sources of Psychology 41 

he strikes a problem which has to be studied mainly 
from a psychological point of view. A piece of tissue, 
a lump of protoplasm, a nerve cell with its dendrons and 
axons can be stained, mounted, observed, and exper- 
imented upon, but who can get hold of a fact of con- 
sciousness, of an elementary psychic state, of a sensa- 
tion, of a feeling, of an idea, stain them, put them un- 
der the microscope for scientific investigation? The 
facts of consciousness are so peculiar, so different in 
kind from those which form the subject matter of other 
sciences that they who are trained exclusively in con- 
crete natural sciences are at a loss where to look for 
"real" psychological facts. 

Some even go so far as to doubt whether facts of 
consciousness are "real" facts at all. Frequently I 
have heard from people with a good medical educa- 
tion, people who were far from being unintelligent, that 
they doubted the reality of psychic facts : "they are not 
anything ! nothing substantial !" Comical as this last 
assertion may appear, one can understand its reason; 
one can understand the consternation and bewilderment 
of him who for the first time puts his foot on the thresh- 
old of psychology. What they meant to express was the 
strange experience of having been confronted with facts 
of a nature totally different from the ones with which 
they usually dealt. The facts with which they are conver- 
sant are of a tangible nature, but the facts of conscious- 
ness are not tangible, they cannot be seen, nor tasted, 
nor smelled, nor weighed by pounds and ounces, nor 
measured by rulers and compasses. In short, psycho- 
logical facts cannot be reached by any of the sense or- 
gans; that is why they are such a puzzle, that is why 
some arrive at the conclusion that facts of conscious- 



42 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

ness can hardly be considered as facts, that they are not 
anything substantial. Still on further reflection any of 
these sceptics will admit that the phenomena of con- 
sciousness exist, and as such they must be facts. 

In fact, if one wants to be a thorough sceptic, he may 
doubt the reality of the external material world. All 
that might be nothing but a dream, nothing but an illu- 
sion, a hallucination. We have no sure criterion of the 
truth of the external material reality, but one thing re- 
mains perfectly clear in all this destructive scepticism 
and that is the reality of the doubting thought, the ex- 
istence of the sceptic consciousness. That is why Des- 
cartes, the father of modern philosophy, beginning with 
profound scepticism as to the reality of things finally 
found his criterion of the truth of real existence in his 
very doubting thought, and he expressed it in his fa- 
mous "Cogito ergo sum." Thought, therefore, is even 
more real than the objects of the material world, 
we know of the latter only through thought, through 
consciousness. In short, consciousness is a stern reality, 
and the phenomena of consciousness are real facts. 

We may refer here to the behavior hypothesis recently 
advanced by Watson. The psychological knowledge of 
animals can only be obtained from the observation of 
their action, of their behavior, or of their adaptations to 
their environment. The same holds true in the case of 
human psychology. Man does not differ from other 
animals and should be studied in the same way. This, 
if I understand Watson aright, is essentially his posi- 
tion. Watson goes to the extent of denying the very 
existence of "centrally initiated processes," he reduces 
all psychology to peripherally induced processes, sen- 
sory and motor. He contests the presence or the very 
existence of images and denies the presence of any af- 



The Sources of Psychology 43 

fective elements. Perhaps it may be best to quote Wat- 
son's own words: 

"Having thus summarily dismissed the image and the 
affective elements, I crave permission to restate the es- 
sential contention of the behaviorist. It is this : the 
world of the physicist, the biologist, and the psycholo- 
gist is the same, a world consisting of objects — their 
interests center around different objects, to be sure, but 
the method of observation of these objects is not essen- 
tially different in the three branches of science. Given 
increased accuracy and scope of technique, and the be- 
haviorist will be able to give a complete account of a 
subject's behavior both as regards immediate response 
to stimulation, which is effected through the larger mus- 
cles; delayed response, which is effected through the 
same muscles (so-called action after deliberation) — 
these two forms comprising what I have called explicit 
behavior; and the more elusive types, such as the move- 
ments of the larynx, which go on in cases where action 
upon stimulation is delayed (so-called thought pro- 
cesses). This latter form of behavior, which manifests 
itself chiefly in movements of the larynx, but which may 
go on in (to the eye) imperceptible form, in the fingers, 
hands, and body as a whole, I should call implicit be- 
havior. For years to come, possibly always, we shall 
have to content ourselves with experimental observation 
and control of explicit behavior. I have a very decided 
conviction, though, that not many years will pass before 
implicit behavior will likewise yield to experimental 
treatment. 

"Possibly the most immediate result of the acceptance 
of the behaviorist's view will be the elimination of self- 
observation and of the introspective reports resulting 



44 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

from such a method." 

The view taken by Watson is physico-biological. 
While one can sympathise with his views in making 
psychology more of a biological study, still one can- 
not help realizing the fact that he takes an extreme view 
when he wishes to reduce all mental processes to be- 
havior. His view of affection as being essentially sense 
processes seems to be sound. He should not, however, 
involve his view of affection with the more narrow sec- 
tarian view of sex analysis forced gratuitously on clin- 
ical facts. Affection and emotion are no doubt peri- 
pherally induced and are probably due to the action 
of the central nervous system and glandular secre- 
tions of internal organs. In this respect one may 
fully agree with the behavior hypothesis. There is no 
need of invoking sex to that effect as Watson himself 
states it: "It is not essential to my contention that the 
above vague suggestion should be true. It is essential 
to our position to have affection reducible to sense pro- 
cesses. It is even more probable that the mechanism is 
glandular; that very slight increase in the secretion 
products gives us the one group; checking or decreas- 
ing the secretion, probably the other." 

What, however, one cannot accept is the extreme 
view of the denial of introspection. Introspection 
will ever remain the fundamental method in normal and 
abnormal psychology. The very problem of sensations, 
ideas, images, thoughts, affects, emotions, has no mean- 
ing without introspection. We must know the psychic 
states or mental processes from our own experiences. 
Pain, pleasure, feelings, anger, fear, love, acquire their 
meaning only from the introspective attitude of the 
observer. 



CHAPTER VII 

PSYCHOLOGY AND PSYCHOPATHOLOGY 

THE popular scientific literature of to-day of- 
ten asserts dogmatically the belief that the 
investigation of the normal precedes that of 
the abnormal. This belief is erroneous and is 
only given credence to by people who had not thought 
much on the subject, and especially by those who belong 
to the so-called "new psychology" school. As a matter 
of fact the abnormal in scientific research precedes that 
of the normal. The investigation of the abnormal is 
one of the most potent instruments for new discoveries. 
The method of experimentation, the most powerful tool 
of modern science, is in fact the creation of artificial con- 
ditions, in other words, the effecting of abnormal states. 
Where the compound is highly complex, where the con- 
stituent factors and their relations are imperfectly or all 
but unknown and are not therefore under control, the 
spontaneous occurrence of some anomaly ought to be 
greeted enthusiastically, as it discloses the role played by 
the modified or excluded factor. This is specially true 
in the case of mental life, where the phenomena under 
investigation are the most complex in the whole domain 
of science, where a direct modification of the functioning 
mental activity is as a rule impossible without the pro- 
duction of some anomaly. 

In the case of psychic life experimentation may be 
conducted on two different lines of research. The one 
is the modification of the objective content by means of 

45 



46 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

changing the objective stimulus; the other method, and 
by far the most efficient and fruitful, is the modification 
of the very function on which the psychic content de- 
pends. 

Memory, for instance, may be studied by giving the 
subject a series of auditory or visual impressions at giv- 
en intervals, and then seeing how many of the series the 
subject can remember after a given interval. We can 
thus determine the role played by such factors as time, 
number of impressions, number of repetitions, etc. The 
function of memory remains the same, and only the 
stimuli of the psychic content are modified. We may, 
however, study memory from a totally different stand- 
point, and that is by the disturbance of its function. Dis- 
turbance of function may be studied in artificial states 
produced by drugs, or induced by hypnosis; or by in- 
vestigating cases in which the function is accidentally 
disturbed, such, for instance, as are to be found in dif- 
ferent forms of amnesia and aphasia. 

The second method is by far the more important 
of the two, and is extremely valuable. For it is only by 
disturbances in the function of thought that we can 
learn something about the factors and nature of mental 
life. We cannot possibly learn about the nature of a 
process, unless we disturb it artificially, or unless we try 
to study cases in which we can find the process in differ- 
ent stages or degrees of perturbation; here one factor is 
missing, there another is exaggerated, and sc on. From 
such cases it is easy to analyze the constituent factors and 
their interrelations. In mechanics, for instance, the law 
of inertia would have never been discovered, if not for 
the imagining of such a case as the absence of all fric- 
tion, or its approximate removal. The ancients who 



Psychology and Psychopathology 47 

looked to the ordinary phenomena of common life, that 
is to the normal, considered that bodies are bound 
to stop. The ancient physicists, relying on their obser- 
vations of the normal, believed that bodies in falling tra- 
verse space in proportion to their weight; it required 
a Galileo to detect the fallacy and show that bod- 
ies, no matter what their size and weight be, fall- 
ing from a high place or in a vacuum, fall to the ground 
at the same time. The same holds true in the case of 
chemistry; no observer of water in its "normal" state 
would have detected the presence of hydrogen and oxy- 
gen. Only under highly artificial or abnormal condi- 
tions was it possible to discover the constituents that go 
to make up the compound water. 

If we turn to the sciences dealing with more com- 
plex phenomena, we find illustrated the same truth. We 
know how highly instructive Darwin found it to follow 
closely for a period of many years experiments of breeds 
in artificial selection, and to what capital account he 
turned his highly valuable observations of all forms of 
curiosities and monstrosities. We all know how valua- 
ble the observation and study of all forms of anomalies 
or variations from the normal type or species proved to 
the final establishment of the theory of evolution. The 
pre-Darwinian zoologist ignored variation regarding 
it simply as an exception to the normal, as a mere ab- 
normality, as a pathological manifestation which is of 
little value to the scientist, who is only occupied with 
the discovery of general laws, laws of the normal. As a 
matter of fact, it was just these neglected variations, 
deviations from the normal that turned out to be at the 
very foundation of biology, revealing the nature and 
mechanism of the evolution of species. 



48 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

The same truth we find illustrate^ in the investiga- 
tions of the functions of the different parts of the organ- 
ism. Experiments on animals such as vivisection, in- 
jecting of toxin matter, etc., experiments that actually 
mean the putting of animals in pathological states, as 
well as the investigation of pathological cases in man, 
have given physiology its most valuable treasures. 
Knowledge of the normal arises out of knowledge of 
the abnormal. In fact we may even say that the nor- 
mal itself originates in the abnormal. It is in varia- 
tions, in anomalies, that the normal species takes its 
origin. 

Strictly speaking the normal is not at all a scientific 
concept, it is purely provisional in its nature, and holds 
only good from a restricted point of view in transitional 
stages of science. The normal is that which is common; 
the normal is the usual ; and it is not the usual, but the 
unusual that gives birth to new life in science. The un- 
usual attracts our attention and reveals to us the function 
and role played by the particular affected product in the 
total compound. 

Taking all this into consideration, I think that they 
are wrong who insist that the abnormal can be known 
only from the normal. We can realize now how super- 
ficial are those who tell us "we learn but little from the 
abnormal, for first of all comes the normal." We real- 
ize now how detrimental to scientific investigation such 
a contention is. As a matter of fact the progress of 
science is not from the normal to the abnormal, but the 
very reverse, from the abnormal to the normal; the 
normal is but an arbitrary temporary concept, modified, 
and determined by the abnormal or unusual. 

The supreme importance of pathological research 



Psychology and Psychopathology 49 

holds especially true in the case of psychology, whert 
the phenomena and the conditions on which these de- 
pend are so highly complex and so intricate, appearing 
at the same time so simple and taken as a matter of 
course in ordinary life. 

As we have pointed out in the investigation of mental 
life we may either change the psychic or objective 
content, or effect changes in the mental function it- 
self. In the study of vision, for instance, we may effect 
changes in the conditions of external objects, leaving 
the eye itself undisturbed. We may keep the object at 
different distances and study its appearances, put the ob- 
ject in water and have it refracted at different angles; 
we may look at it through different prisms, colored 
glasses or contrast its color when appearing in combina- 
tion with other colors, whether it be successive or simul- 
taneously. Instead, however, of effecting changes in the 
objects taken in by the eye, we may study the mechanism 
of vision by investigating the disturbances of the 
function of sight itself under the influence of drugs in- 
jected into the eye, or in different ocular diseases. The 
latter method is by far the more valuable for revealing 
the real mechanism of the visual apparatus. 

Similarly in the study of memory we may follow the 
method of the German school, such for instance as that 
of Ebbinghaus and others, and investigate the laws of 
memory by analyzing the changes effected in its contents ; 
or we may study the mechanism of memory by studying 
its disturbances in different forms of amnesia and mental 
diseases. Since psychology primarily deals with the laws 
of psycho-physiological functions, it will be admitted 
that the more important and valuable method is the one 
that has for its subject matter the changes going on di- 



50 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

rectly in the material under investigation. The investi- 
gations, however, of changes or disturbances of mental 
function itself are really a study of the abnormal, re- 
searches into the domain of mental pathology. In psy- 
chology, as in many other sciences, especially those of 
the biological order to which psychology naturally be- 
longs, the pathological method is by far the most im- 
portant. 

We can realize now the reason why it would be well 
for psychology to follow closely not the methods of 
physical sciences, but those of the biological sciences. 
The material with which physics deals lacks the 
pathological element, it can be introduced only fig- 
uratively, not so is it in the order of phenomena with 
which biology deals. In biology variations, abnormali- 
ties, pathological elements stand out in the foreground, 
and no step can be made without taking them into con- 
sideration. The psychologist in order to succeed and ob- 
tain more efficient and valuable results must keep in 
mind clearly the fact that the psychic process is a form 
of life in general, its phenomena are naturally related 
to the province of biology, and that of the highest part 
of it. The methods of psychological investigation must 
follow the line not of the physical, but of the biological 
sciences. 



CHAPTER VIII 

THE SPIRITUALISTIC AND MATERIALISTIC HYPOTHESES 

IF we scrutinize more closely the science of psy- 
chology, we find that it is essentially dynamical in 
character. Consciousness is the subject matter 
of psychology; but consciousness is dynamic, it is 
first of all an activity, a process. Now all sciences that 
deal with processes cannot possibly help forming some 
working hypothesis that should unify the facts dealt 
with, and should above all be a guide for further re- 
search. Mechanics has its hypothesis of masses, forces, 
energy, inertia, conservation of matter and energy; 
thermotics its molecular energy; electricity its ether vi- 
brations and currents; chemistry the affinity of atoms; 
dynamic physiology has its reflex processes; what is 
the fundamental hypothesis of psychology? 
We find the following hypotheses : 

(I) The Spiritualistic, or soul hypothesis, 

(II) The Materialistic hypothesis, 

(III) The Faculty hypothesis, 

(IV) The Transmission hypothesis, 

(V) The Psycho-physiological hypothesis. 

(a) The Metaphysical, 

(b) The Positive. 

We give here a brief review beginning with the spirit- 
ualistic hypothesis. At the very outset I must caution 
the reader against the grave error of confounding spirit- 
ualism with spiritism. The latter is a religious doctrine 
of life after death, and of the influences of natural or 

5i 



52 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

resurrected spirits ; the former is a philosophical theory, 
hoary with age, that attempts to explain the phenomena 
of consciousness. Such men as Lotze and Ladd are ardent 
advocates of spiritualism. According to this hypothesis 
there exists a spiritual substance, a soul, that acts in all 
the processes of consciousness. The soul is the immuta- 
ble principle that unifies all the phenomena of conscious- 
ness ; in other words, all mental processes are but man- 
ifestations of the soul's activity. 

The medical man trained in the school of concrete 
physical sciences may smile, if not sneer, at the mention- 
ing of the "soul." Such a hypothesis is in his opinion 
nothing but an anachronism. He may consider it as 
a theory long exploded by science and now only linger- 
ing among the lower ignorant classes, a theory which an 
intelligent scientist should be ashamed to introduce into 
his work even for the sake of discussion, and elucida- 
tion of his subject, — the "soul" is nothing but supersti- 
tion. To call a theory superstition does not refute it. 
The significant fact that Prof. Ladd in his volume on 
physiological psychology defends it valiantly, that 
Sigwart in his "Logic" takes up arms for it, and 
also that such a great thinker as Lotze, himself a 
medical man, takes it under his protection and finds it 
perfectly rational, and in fact the only tenable hypo- 
thesis, seems to show that there must be something in 
the "soul," and if superstition it be, it is one that has to 
be reckoned with, and not dismissed with contempt. We 
must, therefore, examine the reasons and facts that urge 
some thinkers and scientists to accept the soul as a 
working hypothesis for the phenomena of consciousness. 
There are two weighty considerations that are strongly 
in favor of spiritualism. 



The Spiritualistic and Materialistic Hypotheses 53 

We have already pointed out in a previous discus- 
sion that mental phenomena are different in kind from 
those of the material world. A feeling, an idea, an 
image, a thought have neither length, nor breadth, nor 
heighth, nor weight; no psychic phenomenon can be ex- 
pressed in terms of material magnitude. Hence, con- 
clude the spiritualists, consciousness is different in kind 
from matter, it is a different substance, a soul. 

Another great point upon which spiritualism rests 
is mental synthesis. We find that in consciousness, sen- 
sations, ideas, thoughts, feelings, are not juxtaposed 
as are the particles of some material body, but are in 
unity, in synthesis. The chair seen yonder consists of 
numerous impressions, sensations and ideas, but all these 
do not appear in consciousness in their bare separate- 
ness, but are synthetized in one percept, a chair. The 
various experiences that reach the mind, in spite of all 
their multitudinousness are still brought into relations 
and are unified, synthetized into the unity of conscious- 
ness, they are all referred to the same personality. Now 
reason the spiritualists, many different phenomena will 
remain in all their manifoldness and will not give rise to 
a unity, unless there is a medium through which they 
are unified. If a resultant is to be formed there must 
be something on which the forces that are to form the 
resultant, impinge. If then we do not assume the hypo- 
thesis of a spiritual substance, mental synthesis is incom- 
prehensible, if not impossible. 

We must now point out the weakness of the soul hy- 
pothesis. The argument of spiritualism, that because 
mental facts differ in kind from material facts, a spirit- 
ual substance must be assumed to exist is certainly fal- 
lacious. Phenomena may differ fundamentally and still 



54 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

we have no right whatever to conclude that they require 
two different substances. Time is different from space, 
but are they two different substances? Consciousness 
may differ widely from matter and still require no one 
simple substance for its existence and activity. 

The only solid argument that remains for the soul 
hypothesis is that of mental synthesis. The very con- 
sideration, however, on which the spiritualist lays so 
much stress serves as his best refutation. That phe- 
nomena of consciousness differ radically from material 
ones is a fundamental proposition with the psychologist 
in general, and with the spiritualist in particular, but 
this is far from supporting spiritualism. On the con- 
trary, it overthrows his last stronghold. For if mental 
facts differ in kind from physical material facts, it is 
poor reasoning to raise difficulties pertaining to one re- 
gion, and carry them over into a totally different one. 
It would be senseless to raise aesthetic difficulties in 
chemistry or mechanics, but it is no better to reason 
that because a medium is required for physical objects, 
movements, forces to combine their effects in one 
resultant, therefore, a medium, a substance, a soul, is 
also required for a synthesis of a totally different order 
of phenomena, those of consciousness. The two orders 
differ in kind, and what is found necessary in one, is not 
for that reason also proven to be indispensable to the 
other. It must first be proven that the conditions of 
unification are the same in both before the argument 
from mental synthesis may be accepted as valid. States 
of consciousness may become synthetized, without any 
medium, without any tertium quid, without any soul. 

The spiritualist by his "soul" hypothesis really 
undermines his own position. For if it be grant- 



The Spiritualistic and Materialistic Hypotheses 55 

ed that the conditions of unification are the same in 
mental as in physical activity; that a medium is required 
in both in order to get a unity, a resultant, then the 
whole "soul" structure tumbles to the ground. 
Material and mental phenomena cannot possibly 
belong to two radically different substances, if the con- 
ditions of their activity are exactly of the same nature. 
It would have been perfectly logical had the difference 
between consciousness and the physical world been as- 
serted and emphasized, and had the medium, the soul, 
been totally left out. 

The greatest difficulty, however, which the spiritualist 
encounters is the interaction of the two substances. If 
matter and soul are different in nature how can they 
interact, how can they come into any relation? Hours 
in so far as they are different from pounds, or miles, 
have nothing in common, and as such do not interact; an 
hour cannot modify a pound, nor can pounds change 
hours, and if this holds true of phenomena of the extern- 
al world where the difference after all is not so very 
great, it must with special force recoil on the spiritualist 
where the soul and body are so totally different in all re- 
spects. The only way out of the difficulty, if one is con- 
sistent and is not afraid to take the consequences, is to 
introduce the miraculous and say that the interaction is 
due to the intervention of the deity. This view was in 
fact taken by the followers of Descartes. The spiritualist, 
however, with a philosophical and scientific training will 
rather be inconsistent and support his view by all kinds 
of props than to accept such a conclusion, because he 
knows that it practically means defeat, it means that the 
hypothesis is not working, and that the soul must take 
shelter under the wing of the deity, the refuge of ig- 



$6 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

norance. 

From a purely scientific standpoint we must reject this 
soul-hypothesis. The first requirement of a scientific 
hypothesis is that its hypothetical cause should be of 
such a nature as to be verifiable by experiment and ob- 
servation. Now in the case of the soul, this condition is 
not fulfilled. The soul is something that lies outside 
the range of experience, and could never be brought 
within the limits of empiricism, the basis of science. The 
spiritualist, in fact, has not even a positive notion of his 
"soul," he either frames it in wholly negative terms, 
that it is not changeable, that it is not material; or, if 
pressed hard, he falls back on the phenomena of con- 
sciousness, the very phenomena the soul is called for to 
explain. 

Furthermore, a scientific hypothesis is justified and 
found useful, if shown that it makes the facts more 
easily understood. This cannot be shown in the case of 
the soul. As a hypothesis the soul is useless and scien- 
tifically unjustifiable. The acceptance of the "spirit," 
of the soul, does not make it a bit easier for us to com- 
prehend the modus operandi of the states of conscious- 
ness. The soul is an immutable, indefinite, indescriba- 
ble, incomprehensible being, and the insuperable diffi- 
culty of how it gives rise to conscious activity requires 
another hypothesis. If mental phenomena present dif- 
ficulties, spiritualism doubles them. The soul in fact, is 
the "double," the ghost of consciousness. The soul is 
an unverifiable superfluous entity, it is not a vera causa 
in nature; it explains nothing, and without removing 
difficulties is only introduced as an additional burden. 

Before we dismiss the soul hypothesis, we may point 
out that it must be rejected on quite different grounds, — 



The Spiritualistic and Materialistic Hypotheses 57 

it is at bottom unscientific, it is metaphysical, it goes into 
the ultimate nature of things, an investigation that does 
not fall within the province of science. The soul-hypo- 
thesis assumes the existence of an abiding unchangeable 
entity behind the veil of mental phenomena, an entity 
which in the flow and change of the phenomena remains 
the same and is the really real, the ultimate nature of the 
facts of consciousness. This belongs to the ontological 
part of metaphysics, but should not be introduced into 
science. The reader will realize now, why the 
whole complicated "soul discussion" is taken up here. 
It is to emphasize the fact that psychology has nothing 
to do with substances, noumena, entities, and quiddities, 
that psychology has nothing to do with the "inner na- 
ture" of consciousness. Psychology, like all other sci- 
ences, describes, classifies, and investigates by means of 
observation and experimentation facts of consciousness 
and their relations, and endeavors to express these rela- 
tions in general formulae or laws ; all attempts to make 
of psychology more than this can only result in bad met- 
aphysics. 

The materialistic hypothesis is even worse metaphys- 
ics than is the spiritualistic one. It is a hypothesis which 
in spite of its evident absurdity is none the less in favor 
with some representatives of the medical profession. 
Matter and force, as Biichner puts it, give rise to, or pro- 
duce consciousness, or as Cabanis and Moleschott ex- 
press it "the brain produces thought as the liver secretes 
bile." vThis hypothesis is unscientific and metaphysical, 
because it attempts to penetrate into the inner nature 
of consciousness, and claims to have it resolved into 
"matter." It is bad metaphysics, because it takes its 
"matter" on trust, without any critical reflection. More- 



58 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

over it is more crude and worse metaphysics than is the 
soul hypothesis, because it lacks even the recognition of 
the most elementary, psychological proposition, namely 
the knowledge of fundamental difference between mental 
and material phenomena. 

Turning now to the faculty-hypothesis, we find that 
it is nothing else than spiritualism under a somewhat 
different form. The faculty-hypothesis chops the mind 
into many different parts, termed faculties, one is for 
reading, another for speaking, another for remember- 
ing, another still for willing, and so on. Sometimes 
they are limited to a few, and sometimes they are mul- 
tiplied to infinity. 

The faculty-hypothesis is a cheap edition of spiritual- 
ism, it is spiritualism many times over. Instead of one 
soul it has many of them. Spiritualism has but one dif- 
ficulty and that is the soul which, like an omnipotent 
deity, presides in some mysterious way over mental and 
organic activities. The faculty-hypothesis has an infinite 
number of them, inasmuch as it multiplies the deity into 
an endless number of gods and spirits that take charge 
of different psychic and psychomotor departments. 

One can see the reason of the faculty hypothesis. It 
originated with people who as a rule are inclined to ac- 
cept uncritically words for realities. Thus, will, mem- 
ory, words that are only collective terms for many dif- 
ferent states of mind, names furnished by the language 
of unreflective common sense, are naively taken as indi- 
cating some substantial entities, or little spirits existing 
somewhere in the brain. 




CHAPTER IX 

THE TRANSMISSION HYPOTHESIS 

HE transmission hypothesis advanced by 
James is a modification of the soul hypothesis. 
The transmission hypothesis postulates the 
existence of a physical world and of an inde- 
pendent universe of consciousness. Consciousness, how- 
ever, cannot manifest itself in this sublunar world with- 
out the occurrence of definite physical changes. That 
level of physical changes which makes the manifestations 
of consciousness possible is termed the physical thresh- 
old. Now the ocean of consciousness pours forth its psy- 
chic waves into the material world with the rise and fall 
of the physical threshold. The threshold is to be pictured 
as a sort of flood gate regulating the volume and inten- 
sity of the transmitted current. The rising of the thresh- 
old diminishes the psychic stream, while the lowering of 
the threshold permits a greater volume of consciousness 
to pour over into our physical world. 

The transmission hypothesis has certain advantages 
over the previous ones discussed by us. While this hy- 
pothesis postulates the independence of consciousness, it 
is also in accord with the scientific proposition now gen- 
erally accepted, namely that mental life is somehow con- 
nected with or is a function of brain activity, only speci- 
fying that this function is one of transmission. It claims 
to fall in line with the threshold concept of psycho- 
physics as worked out by Fechner, and further harrowed 

59 



60 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

by the "new psychology" movement; moreover, it is 
comprehensive enough to embrace all the facts and 
speculations brought out by recent investigations in the 
domain of mental pathology. 

The transmission hypothesis, however, has also 
disadvantages which are of such a grave nature as to 
make one hesitate to accept it. The transmission hypo- 
thesis from its very nature is unverifiable. For, if, by 
hypothesis, consciousness manifests itself in this sublunar 
world (the only one we know) only under physical 
conditions, how can we ever come to know and verify a 
postulated world of pure consciousness ? Being outside 
the domain of our psychophysical world, the universe of 
disembodied consciousness cannot, by hypothesis, furnish 
us the means for its verification. In this sublunar world 
we can know of the existence of consciousness through 
its physical expressions, through its being embodied. 
How then, can we ever reach a universe of disembodied 
consciousness ? But a hypothesis which from its very na- 
ture is not verifiable cannot possibly be accepted. 

The transmission hypothesis is all the more unaccepta- 
ble as the terms in which it is expressed are contradic- 
tory, and the analogy on which it is based is essentially 
illegitimate. Consciousness is supposed to be different 
in nature from the physical world and existing inde- 
pendently, the psychophysical threshold alone regulating 
the volume of the stream of consciousness to be poured 
over into the material world. The threshold then which 
is physical in character limits consciousness, but how can 
the two be limited by each other when they are totally 
different in nature ? In assuming two different universes, 
we assert that the two cannot limit each other, but in 
examining again the concept of threshold we make a 



The Transmission Hypothesis 6 1 

contradictory assertion that the two can and do limit 
each other. 

The very analogy on which the concept of "transmis- 
sion function" is based is illegitimate when applied to 
consciousness in its relation to the physical world. The 
concept of "transmission function" can only be applied 
to a case where the transmitter and the thing transmitted 
are of homogeneous terms, but not where the terms 
are essentially heterogeneous. A stream of liquid can 
be transmitted through a pipe, a beam of light through 
stained glass, or a Runtgen ray through soft or more or 
less rarified cellular tissue. Both the transmitter 
and the material transmitted are physical in their 
nature, but how can an idea or feeling such as our 
idea of eternity, or of infinity, or aesthetic, or moral 
sense be transmitted through a tube? How then can 
we apply the concept of transmission-function to con- 
sciousness and the physical world where the two are 
totally different in nature? The analogy is figurative 
and scientifically illegitimate. 

The transmission hypothesis sins further by reason of 
its transcending the legitimate grounds of psychology. 
It assumes an independent world of consciousness which 
cannot be brought within the range of experience. Now 
even if it be granted that such a world does exist, it still 
falls outside the subject-matter of psychology. For psy- 
chology as we pointed out deals with facts of conscious- 
ness, with experiences and their relations. If it be ob- 
jected that every hypothesis is extra-experiential, it may 
be pointed out that a hypothesis must be framed in 
terms that can be drawn within the circle of experience, 
it must use a vera causa, an agent that is observable in 
nature. But, as we have already shown, the transmis- 



62 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

sion hypothesis lacks this essential requirement. Its 
agent, disembodied consciousness, is not a vera causa, 
nor can it ever be drawn into the circle of experience. A 
good hypothesis must be framed with a view of becom- 
ing a possible fact, but this hypothesis from its very na- 
ture disclaims this possibility, since its agent is in a 
region that lies outside our world of experience. 

For this very last reason, namely, for speculating in 
things extra-mundane, the hypothesis may also be 
charged with committing transgressions in metaphysics. 
Such a hypothesis is the more metaphysical as the phe- 
nomena under consideration are dealt with as if they 
were entities. 

Furthermore, the hypothesis only seemingly holds to 
the empirical law that consciousness is a function of the 
brain. For if consciousness is in a separate world all 
the psychic phenomena are in existence from all eternity, 
ready made, the phenomena of consciousness have really 
nothing to do with the brain, inasmuch as they exist from 
all eternity, in a region outside and totally independent 
of the brain. Thus the hypothesis by its very character, 
even if the matter be regarded from a purely logical 
standpoint undermines the proposition which it under- 
took to explain, and as such can hardly be considered as 
valid. 

Finally, it may be urged, that the invocation of an 
extra-mundane world helps matters little, as it does not 
show the modus operandi of the interdependence of 
mental and physical phenomena, inasmuch as the rising 
or falling of a physical threshold does not in the least 
explain or show how a stream of consciousness is made 
possible to vary in volume and intensity. Without ex- 
plaining the proposition that mental processes vary as 



The Transmission Hypothesis 63 

physical processes, the transmission hypothesis only as- 
sumes an additional world of disembodied consciousness 
and thus gratuitously multiplies entities. 



CHAPTER X 

THE METAPHYSICAL HYPOTHESES OF PARALLELISM 

THESpinozistic doctrine of parallelism claims 
that the mental and physical orders run par- 
allel to each other, taking its stand on purely 
metaphysical grounds, namely, on the ex- 
istence of one substance with an infinite number of at- 
tributes, all expressing the nature of this substance. Two 
of these attributes, being mind and matter which in an 
infinite number of parallel running modes or phenomena 
express the nature of this one substance. A modification 
of the unitary substance regarded under the attribute 
of mind is a mental mode or phenomenon. The same re- 
garded under the attribute of matter or extension is a 
material mode or physical phenomenon. Mental and 
physical phenomena are both manifestations of one uni- 
tary substance. There is no need for me to point out 
that this double aspect of one unitary substance belongs 
to metaphysical dogmatism, of substantialism, and as 
such cannot possibly be admitted into the province of 
psychology as a natural science. 

The voluntaristic school does not acknowledge a strict 
parallelism in the sense of a double aspect of the same 
unknowable or of two infinite attributes of the eternal 
nature of the same substance, but it does teach a psycho- 
physiological parallelism, grounding it on the double 
aspect, subjective and objective, of one "unitary" ex- 
perience. This differs but little from the substantialistic 
dogmatism. Instead of one unitary substance the volun- 

64 



The Metaphysical Hypotheses of Parallelism 65 

tarist substitutes a no less metaphysical category of 
"unitary experience." 

Another metaphysical view of the new associationist 
or sensationalist school grounds parallelism on epis- 
temological and metaphysical grounds. Psycho-physio- 
logical parallelism is partly a matter of pure definition, 
partly a matter of philosophical considerations. This 
school defines a psychic object as one belonging to a 
single subject, one individual only, while a physical ob- 
ject is one belonging to many subjects. Now, reasons 
this school, if psychology is to be a science at all, it 
must surely be of such a nature as to be communicated 
to other subjects, that is, it must become common prop- 
erty, and since by definition, only a physical object is an 
object of many and is communicable, hence a psychic 
object to become communicable must be expressed in 
physical terms. 

This excursion into the region of metaphysics and 
epistemology of the otherwise matter of fact and com- 
mon sense school is the result of good intention of being 
thorough-going, hence, this metaphysical definition of 
mental and physical phenomena of the "one" and the 
"many." 

Another argument adduced by the same school seems 
to be somewhat more sound. Physical facts it is alleged 
have a necessary causal connection, while psychic facts 
are only connected by association, which is not one of 
necessity. An idea a is sometimes followed by idea b 
and sometimes by idea c and so on. There is no invari- 
able connection in psychic life, such as is to be found 
in physical facts. The soundness of this argument, how- 
ever, is rather questionable. For it may be contended 
that no fastening bonds are ever observed in physical 



66 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

phenomena, the only thing observed is a relation of se- 
quence of antecedent and consequent, and in case of 
causation an invariable sequence of a definite antecedent 
and definite consequent. Now psychic facts also mani- 
fest relations of sequence, we observe antecedents fol- 
lowed by consequents. 

The argument that an idea is sometimes followed by 
one and sometimes by another idea showing the absence 
of invariable sequence is, if looked at closer, of a rather 
dubious character. An idea a or idea b is only ob- 
jectively the same, by having the same object, 
but the thought, mental stream, or moment consciousness 
that possess that idea may not be the same, but it is 
just this mental stream, the moment-consciousness 
that determines the content of the succeeding idea. 
The thought of a is different according to the dif- 
ference of the mental stream or moment conscious- 
ness. It is one of the psychologist's fallacies to 
consider that if the object is the same then the thought 
that possesses the object must also be the same. Now 
ideas of the same a are totally different in different ment- 
al streams, just as two different minds regarding the 
same object have absolutely different psychic states. It is 
therefore clear that an idea a may be sometimes fol- 
lowed by b and sometimes by another idea. An idea 
a followed by b is altogether different from idea a fol- 
lowed by c. It is only the recurrence of the same mental 
stream or moment consciousness that would give the 
same sequence. This is clearly observed in hypnoidic 
states where the same moment consciousness recurs, the 
same sensations, ideas, feelings, and actions follow in 
invariable succession. 



CHAPTER XI 

THE UNITARY EXPERIENCE OF VOLUNTARISM 

N the course of our discussion, we had again and 
again to refer to the data and postulates of psychol- 
ogy. It would be well to give now a short review 
of them so as to bring them clearly before the 
mind of the reader. The fact that the postulates are 
not kept clearly in view leads one to commit many a fal- 
lacy. 

Psychology assumes the validity of unanalyzed crite- 
ria of reality taken as valid by common sense. The 
verification of illusions, hallucinations, and. delusions is 
finally based on the dictum of common sense. The 
work of science may after all be nothing but an 
illusion, an hallucination, or a delusion of consciousness. 
What keeps up the scientist in his work is his firm belief 
that mankind believe in it, and that when other people 
are put under the same conditions they will verify his 
experiences. 

Science assumes the postulates on which all experience 
of common sense is based. Science furnishes our knowl- 
edge of the external world, but science is essentially not 
self-conscious, and it cannot therefore on its own 
grounds answer the question as to the validity of its 
knowledge. Is there something independent in that ex- 
ternally perceived object, the house, for instance, or is 
the psychic account all there is to it? This is a problem 
not to be answered on psychological grounds. Knowl- 
edge, its possibility, its nature, and[ its general aspect 

67 



68 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

must be taken for granted. Psychological knowledge, 
general for all subjects must be assumed, as well as gen- 
eral knowledge of the objective world. The psychologist, 
like other scientists, must assume that his experiences 
are so conditioned, that though they may be unique, 
still if others were to be put under the same conditions 
and confronted with the same external realities, they 
would pass through similar experiences. In short, psy- 
chology assumes the validity of its knowledge, its gen- 
eral validity for all knowing subjects, also knowledge 
of an externally existing object, analyzed from the sub- 
jective standpoint into its psychological elements. Psy- 
chology, therefore, has really far more assumptions at its 
basis than any other natural science, for in addition to 
the assumption of the existence of an external world it 
must assume a knowing or sensitive subject, and also the 
interrelation of the two. 

It is true that the so-called "Voluntaristic school" 
claims that psychology is the only science that has no 
assumption at its basis. The representative of that 
school claims that there is but one "unitary ex- 
perience." From this "unitary experience natural sci- 
ence abstracts the knowing subject and as such deals 
with abstract mediate experiences requiring auxiliary 
assumptions, not so is psychology which deals with ex- 
perience as it is immediately presented to the experienc- 
ing subject." According to the voluntarist natural sci- 
ence deals with mediate experience, while psychology 
deals with immediate experience requiring no assump- 
tions. 

This argument is questionable on the very face of it. 
For the existence of that "unitary experience" is itself 
an assumption; it implies that the experience and the 



The Unitary Experience of Voluntarism 69 

object given by the experience are one. Such a unifica- 
tion of experience and external object implied in "uni- 
tary experience" is a metaphysical assumption which 
idealistic philosophy may prove as being true, but which 
the psychologist can not possibly accept as given directly 
by experience itself. Furthermore, the concept "experi- 
ence" cannot stand by itself, it implies assumptions; an 
experience must be of something that lies outside that 
experience. I have an experience of a house yonder, but 
the house yonder is not an experience unless regarded 
from a metaphysical or epistemological standpoint, but 
then we overstep the boundaries of psychology which 
deals with experiences of individual organisms and en- 
ter the field of philosophy that deals with experience in 
general. 

In taking the most simple psychological element, 
namely sensation, we have its correlative in the external 
stimulus ; there can be no sensations without a stimulus, 
but that stimulus is no longer a sensation nor is it any 
other psychic process, such for instance as an idea. Psy- 
chologically considered the identification of the stimulus 
with psychic state or process is incorrect, because it 
would mean that all sensory processes are initiated only 
by sensations or ideas. 

Again, if we come to ask in what sense we under- 
stand the concept "immediate experience," we find furth- 
er difficulties. For if the consciousness be of the anoetic 
type, to borrow the term from Stout, there is neither 
mediate, nor immediate experience; if the consciousness 
is of the noetic type it is questionable as to what we 
mean by "immediate." For it may be contended with 
the modern realist that the knowledge of the object as 
given in sensation is immediate, while the knowledge of 



70 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

sensation itself with which psychology deals is not 
immediately given; it requires a long training before 
this is separated and sifted from experience; the psy- 
chological aspect of experience is really secondary, and 
as such mediate. 

If by "immediate" we mean to indicate the fact that 
the psychic process must antedate the knowledge of the 
external objective world, the proposition can be contested 
once more; for along with the psychic process the ob- 
ject also is given; especially is this true of the idealistic 
metaphysical presupposition of the voluntaristic school 
that identifies the objective world with the given 
primary experience. The objective and subjective as- 
pects of the "unitary experience" are both supposed 
to be given together and, as such, are both immedi- 
ate. Natural science abstracts the subjective aspect and 
psychology abstracts the objective aspect the "mediate 
experience." We should, however, question the term 
"mediate experience." What may "mediate experience" 
mean? If experience has any meaning, it means some- 
thing gone or lived through directly, immediately; but 
then all experience is immediate, otherwise it cannot be 
experience. A mediate experience as contrasted with im- 
mediate experience can only mean experience inferred, 
experience not experienced, a concept contradictory in its 
very nature and definition, and must be therefore reject- 
ed as a meaningless term. The fact is, that "mediate ex- 
perience" is an inappropriate and misleading term 
for physical processes which as such are neither experi- 
ence nor mediate. 

The very statement of the voluntaristic psychologist 
discloses the hidden assumption. There is a unitary ex- 
perience which falls asunder into mediate experience of 



The Unitary Experience of Voluntarism 71 

natural science and immediate experience, the subject 
matter of the psychologist. If this be so, then the psy- 
chologist does not deal with the totality of experience. 
Since the mediate experience — part of the "unitary ex- 
perience" falls outside its domain, it deals only with 
experience in so far as it is regarded as immediate. 
Evidently psychology requires presuppositions to supple- 
ment the abstracted mediate aspect of the unitary ex- 
perience. For the voluntaristic school will surely admit 
that unitary experience is given neither in the mediate 
aspect nor in the immediate aspect alone, and as science 
deals either with the one, or with the other, presuppo- 
sitions are ipso facto also indispensable in psychology. 

Moreover, psychology even from the standpoint of 
the voluntaristic school requires more presuppositions 
than the natural sciences. For experience, even if it be 
immediate, must still be of something other than itself. 
The sensation white is of something white, the touch 
sensation hard is of something hard, the pain sensation 
prick is of something sharp, and so on. Now if this 
something, if that other of which there is immediate 
experience be the so-called "mediate experience" as this 
is the supplementary part of the unitary experience, of 
the total reality, then "immediate experience" is experi- 
ence of "mediate experience." The science then that 
deals with immediate experience must postulate mediate 
experience as one of its fundamental presuppositions. 
Thus we come once more to the conclusion, and this time 
from quite a different standpoint, that psychology as sci- 
ence in general has its presuppositions, and that it furth- 
ermore presupposes all the presuppositions of the natural 
sciences. 

Psychology explains the subject and object in con- 



72 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

sciousness, and that only in relation to the question of 
"how," — how we come to know this or that object, but 
whether there is an object or subject independent of the 
experiencing thought; what the nature of that object or 
subject is, whether of mental experience stuff or of some 
extra-mental material, is a question that does not belong 
to the domain of psychology. The answer is differently 
given by the idealist, materialist, realist, monist. In 
short, the problem of "what" belongs not to psychology, 
but to the province of metaphysics. The Voluntaristic 
school in denying all presuppositions in psychology starts 
with a purely metaphysical speculation of the idealistic 
stamp, namely, in postulating that the external object of 
psychic experience is identical with that same experience. 
Psychology or any other science must reject unhesitat- 
ingly such metaphysical speculations. 



CHAPTER XII 

THE INDUCTIVE BASIS OF THE POSITIVE PSYCHOLOGICAL 
HYPOTHESIS 

IT now remains for us to examine the psycho-physio- 
logical hypothesis. This last hypothesis fully ac- 
cepts the difference between the two series of facts, 
the material and the mental, but instead of going 
to look for "the other side," instead of going into meta- 
physics, it takes the two different series as its data, and 
considers them as co-ordinate. It does not trouble itself 
as to whether there is a soul behind the scenes, all it has 
to consider is facts, phenomena that can be observed 
and experimented upon. The co-ordination it assumes 
is not an assumption based on abstract philosophical 
speculations, on subtle hair-splitting, but is based on ex- 
perience. 

Numerous facts from pathology and experimental 
physiology go to prove that mental states have 
their physiological correlatives. It is enough to men- 
tion the fact of the influence of toxic matters on the 
brain and the effected mental disturbances. In alcoholic 
intoxication, for instance, we first meet with an unloos- 
ening of higher psychic inhibitions; in the initial stage 
of intoxication there is an apparent heightening of 
mental and motor activity, and then as the quantity of 
the poison absorbed by the blood and conveyed to the 
cerebro-spinal nervous system is increased, a progressive 
paralysis of psychomotor life sets in. At first the high- 
est psychic functions, the moral and intellectual processes 

73 



74 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

are disturbed and finally paralyzed; and this paralysis 
slowly descends to the lower and more stable functions, 
such as speech and writing, then affecting the coordina- 
tion of grosser movements, such as running, walking, 
standing, sitting; and as the action of the poison in- 
creases, the organic, respiratory functions become affect- 
ed, finally ending in death. Different drugs and poisons 
that act on the cerebro-spinal nervous system produce 
different symptoms, but all of them, while influencing 
the physiological nervous processes, at the same time have 
their action manifested by a parallel modification of 
psychic processes. Illusions, hallucinations, and delu- 
sions, changes in reasoning and willing, changes in mem- 
ory, amnesia and paramnesia, all these can be induced by 
the influence of poisons. Thus we find that the two 
series of phenomena, the psychic and the physiological 
or physical are intimately related. 

Pathology and psychiatry with their vast stores of 
facts go to confirm the psycho-physiological hypothesis. 
In general paralysis, for instance, we meet conditions 
somewhat similar to those of alcoholic intoxication. At 
first inhibitions are removed, the psychomotor pro- 
cesses become deranged and slightly stimulated, sooner 
or later to be followed by gradual paralysis. The pro- 
cess of dissolution progresses from the highest, most 
complex, least stable functions, memory, intelligence, 
will and so on, to the lower, less complex and more sta- 
ble functions, reading, writing, playing, etc., finally 
reaching to the very lowest, to the simplest co-ordination 
of movements, mastication, swallowing, etc. A post- 
mortem examination of the brain uniformly reveals a 
profound degeneration of the brain cells. In the vari- 
ous forms of epilepsy and in most cases of chronic in- 



Inductive Basis of Psychological Hypothesis 75 

sanity, ending in dementia, we find on examination as a 
rule, some degeneration of the brain cells. 

In cases of the many forms of aphasia, science tri- 
umphed in discovering the brain lesion. In motor 
aphasia the third frontal convolution, or that of 
Broca is found to be degenerated, in sensory aphasia 
the degeneration is in the first temporo-sphenoidal con- 
volution, or that of Wernicke. In many other nervous 
diseases where there is a profound change in the sensori- 
motor functions, such as posterior spinal sclerosis or loco- 
motor ataxia, acute ascending paralysis, acute poleomy- 
elitis anterior, syringomyelia, etc., we also find degener- 
ation in some one part of the cerebro-spinal nervous sys- 
tem. Thus in tabes we find a degeneration of the pos- 
terior root zones often associated with similar lesions in 
the intramedullory continuation of the several cranial 
nerves. In poliomyelitis anterior we find an inflamma- 
tion of the anterior cornua (sometimes extending in the 
antero-lateral columns) ; the multipolar cells with their 
dendrons and neuraxons are destroyed. In syringo- 
myelia we find the formation of one or more cavities 
within the substance of the spinal cord, usually within 
the horns of the gray matter the cavities being filled 
with a fluid which is either liquid or gelatinous. We 
find in these diseases definite organic changes concomi- 
tant with definite sensori-motor modifications. 

In the functional diseases belonging to the province of 
psycho-pathology, diseases such as are known under the 
vague term of hysteria in all its protean manifestations, 
the different forms of anaesthesia and amnesia, abulia, 
psychopathic chorea, astasia-abasia and numerous oth- 
ers, where no organic lesion in the cerebro-spinal ner- 
vous system can possibly be discovered, we have good 



76 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

reasons for suspecting some functional derangement in 
the psysiological processes of the nervous system. My 
own psycho physiological investigations in this line tend 
strongly to confirm the theory that all functional dis- 
eases are dis associations of functioning brain cell-sys- 
tems, and that the gravity of the disease depends on the 
extension of such functional dissociations. Thus we 
find that neuro-pathology and the recent science of psy- 
cho-pathology with all the wealth of facts and discover- 
ies at their disposal give evidence of the truth of the 
psycho-physiological hypothesis; in fact, this is their only 
working hypothesis sine qua non the very existence of 
these sciences. 

The psycho-physiological hypothesis finds special sup- 
port in the brilliant investigations of experimental physi- 
ology. The experiments of Munk, Ferrier, Hitzig, 
Brown-Sequard, Goltz, Schiff, and others clearly show 
the correlation of brain functions with psychic activity. 
They show, for instance, in animals that the physiolog- 
ical processes in the occipital lobes are correlated with 
vision, that those of the temporal lobe, especially of the' 
superior temporo-sphenoidal convolution are correlated 
with hearing, that sensations of smell are concomitant 
with the function of the median descending part of the 
temporal lobes, that taste is probably correlated with the 
processes of the lower temporal regions, that tactual 
sensibility is intimately connected with the physiological 
processes of the motor zone; and the recent researches 
of Bianchi and Flechsig tend to correlate the highest 
psychic activity of man with the function of definite 
areas in the cortex. 

Should we care to look for more proofs as to the 
validity of correlation of psychic with neural, or physical 



Inductive Basis of Psychological Hypothesis 77 

processes, we can also find it in another branch of ex- 
perimental physiology, namely, physiological psychol- 
ogy. Thus Doctor Lombard by placing sensitive ther- 
mometers and electric piles against the scalp noted a 
rise in temperature during intellectual effort, such as 
calculation, recitation, composition. The temperature 
showed a marked rise exceeding 1 ° F. during an intense 
emotion. When intellectual activity rose in intensity 
there was also a parallel rise in temperature, thus the 
temperature was found to be higher, when poetry was 
recited silently than when the same was done aloud. 
Similar results were arrived at by Schiff in his experi- 
ments on dogs. He placed thermo-electric needles on 
the scalps of dogs; the sensations of the animals were 
then tested with different kinds of stimuli. It was found 
that whenever the stimulus was given and the sensation 
experienced, that a change was at once manifested in the 
cerebral and motor processes which was indicated by the 
deflection of the galvanometer. When the dog was lying 
motionless and a rolled up piece of paper was given to 
him, the galvanic deflection was small, when, however, a 
piece of meat was brought near the dog, the deflection 
became considerable. Galvanometric deflections con- 
comitant with psychomotor activities have also been 
shown in the case of human subjects. 

The ponograph is well adapted to demonstrate 
in a striking way to the doubting layman the in- 
timate relation of physical and mental phenom- 
ena. The subject is put on table, which is so 
delicately balanced that at the slightest alteration in the 
distribution of the weight of the subject, it tilts. Now 
it is found that when the subject is spoken to, or when 
making some intellectual effort, the table at once tilts, 



78 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

possibly because of the increased blood supply to the 
brain and more especially on account of the motor reac- 
tions. Pneumographic, plethysmographic, carotido- 
graphic, cardiographic, automatographic, ponographic, 
and ergographic tracings show physiological changes 
concomitant with the slightest modification of psychic 
processes. As simple an instrument as the sphygmo- 
graph can demonstrate the same truth. A sphygmogram 
taken under mental activity differs from the one taken 
under mental repose. 

All these facts, and many more could be adduced 
to establish on a firm basis the psycho-physiological 
hypothesis that psychic phenomena are accompanied 
with physiological or physical processes. The whole of 
recent psycho-physiological research work is based on 
the hypothesis that there is no psychosis without neu- 
rosis. The two are concomitant. Psychic and physical 
phenomena go hand in hand, the two processes run 
parallel to each other. Thus we find that psycho-physi- 
ological parallelism is a strictly scientific hypothesis. 

The psychic and physiological series of changes 
are concomitant, parallel, but they do not stand to each 
other in relation of antecedent and consequent, they are 
not causally related. I take here the opportunity of 
emphasizing the non-causal relation of mental and phys- 
iological processes. It is usually taken for granted by 
many medical men, and even by some scientists, neurol- 
ogists, physiologists, biologists, who do not happen to 
think out clearly the more theoretical aspects of their 
investigations, that brain processes are the direct cause 
of mental phenomena and that psychology therefore is 
nothing but a chapter in physiology. Study the brain 
and you will know all about psychic life. This view is 



Inductive Basis of Psychological Hypothesis 79 

certainly fallacious. A psychic fact as we have pointed 
out is radically different, different in kind from a phys- 
ical, mechanical fact. One cannot, therefore, give rise 
to the other. 

The reason why it is thought that physical processes 
give rise to mental, lies in the fallacious analogy taken 
from the law of convertibility and equivalence of energy 
in the activity of physical processes. Heat, it is reasoned, 
can be converted into electricity, electricity into magnet- 
ism, magnetism into motion, motion into sound or light, 
and the same may be done in reverse order; the energy 
of physiological processes therefore is converted into 
mental, or psychic energy. The whole reasoning is 
wrong. We must remember that what underlies all 
these different physical phenomena is various forms of 
molecular and molar motion, and when one order of 
physical phenomena passes into another, it is after all 
only the transformation of one form of motion into 
another form. Quite different is it in the case of the 
phenomena of consciousness. The activity of conscious- 
ness is not a form of motion, and the two therefore, 
cannot be converted into each other. Mental activity 
is but figuratively termed energy, just as a well reasoned 
argument may be characterized as clear and lucid, but 
it does not mean that one can see a candle shining 
through it. The energy of mental phenomena is as 
much the energy of physical and physiological sciences 
as the idea of a brick is a brick itself and made up of 
clay. 

Furthermore, were it possible that a physiological 
process should be converted into a mental process, the 
law of conservation of energy would have to be given 
up, and along with it the whole edifice of modern science 



80 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

would tumble to the ground. For according to the law 
of conservation of energy no physical energy can pos- 
sibly be lost. One form of energy may pass into another, 
but the physical energy which is some form of motion, 
molar, molecular, atomic, ionic or electronic cannot be 
lost, that is, there must always be so much motion, no 
matter under what form it may appear. Now on the 
one hand, were it possible that a physiological process, 
which is nothing but a form of physical energy, could 
pass into a psychic state, which is no motion at all, we 
would really have a loss of energy. Were it on the 
other hand possible that a mental or psychic process 
should pass into a physiological process, we would have 
had new energy generated, energy that is not a trans- 
formation of some previous existing energy, or physical 
activity. 

If mental and physiological processes were to 
stand to each other in relation of antecedent and conse- 
quent, in relation of cause and effect, we would have had 
with each beat of consciousness a new creation of physi- 
cal energy and a loss of it with each cerebral process. This 
would be sufficient to undermine the basis of science, and 
practically we might have had good hopes that in the 
near future our steam engines would be run by good 
intentions and windmills by aesthetic feelings. 

Psychic and physiological series are no doubt inti- 
mately related, but their relation is not causal, they do 
not stand to each other in relation of invariable suc- 
cession characteristic of cause and effect, but in that 
of co-existence. The two series of processes are 
concomitant, they run parallel to each other, but 
neither is the cause of the other. A change in 
the one means also a simultaneous, concomitant mod- 



Inductive Basis of Psychological Hypothesis 8 1 

ification in the other. In other words, every psychic 
change must have its physiological concomitant, and 
vice versa, every physiological process may have its 
psychic accompaniment. This hypothesis of psycho- 
physical parallelism is at the basis of all modern psycho- 
physiological, neurological, and psycho-pathological in- 
vestigations, inasmuch as it is taken for granted that for 
every manifested sensori-motor or ideo-motor "symp- 
tom" there must be present term for term some physio- 
logical process. Psychology takes the same view and ac- 
cepts the same hypothesis; it does not trouble itself 
in the least with the philosophical problem as to whether 
the two series of phenomena, the mental and the phys- 
ical, have behind them separate substances, or whether 
they are but two different aspects of the same 
thing. This belongs to metaphysics. The psycho-phys- 
iological theory like all other scientific hypotheses has 
nothing to do with metaphysical substrata, but deals 
only with facts and their relations. 



CHAPTER XIII 

THE DEDUCTIVE BASIS OF THE POSITIVE PSYCHOLOGICAL 
HYPOTHESIS 

THE concept of causality cannot be worked in 
psychology in the same way as it can be done 
in the physical science. The circle of physical 
processes is complete in itself. A physical 
process without ceasing to be physical can be traced 
endlessly in the past or future, all the links of the endless 
process must all be physical in their nature. For if we 
permit in the endless chain of links of the physical pro- 
cess any other but physical links to be interpolated, all 
the physical sciences must fall to the ground, since at any 
stage we may get hold of a process of which the antece- 
dent link is not of a physical nature. In short, the postu- 
late that forms the basis of physical science is that the 
antecedent and consequent of a physical process taken 
at any stage of the process are physical in their nature. 
This is the principle of continuity. The whole edifice 
of the physical sciences is based on this principle. 

If we now turn to psychology, we find that it cannot 
be based on a postulate of similar character. Psychol- 
ogy cannot possibly work on the assumption that the 
processes it deals with can be traced endlessly in either 
direction, past, or future. Unlike the physical, the 
psychic process is finite and final, — it has a beginning and 
an end, it begins with a purpose, conscious, subconscious, 
or unconscious, and ends with an adjustment. The 
psychic process begins as a sensation, and its complete 

82 



Deductive Basis of Psychological Hypothesis 83 

cycle runs its course as an idea and then ends in a voli- 
tion to act. The stimulus marking the beginning of the 
psychic process and the act marking the end of the pro- 
cess are physical links of a continuous physical process, 
the links of which can be traced endlessly in physical 
terms. 

Taking the psychic process from the ontogenetic 
standpoint, we find again the same thing. If the psychic 
life of the individual is taken as a whole and traced back- 
ward, in the past, we arrive at some point, when the 
stream of consciousness begins, and on following it 
forward, we finally arrive at a point where the stream 
of consciousness ends. If we view the question phylo- 
genetically, we come once more to the same conclusion. 
In the history of biological evolution there was a time 
when psychic life began, and there will come a time when 
all psychic life will disappear from our globe. The 
principle of continuity, the warp and woof of physical 
science, cannot be worked in psychology, instead of it we 
can only discover a principle of finiteness and finality. 

In a physical process any link taken at random must 
have a physical antecedent and consequent; not so is it 
in a psychic process, not each link of the series has its 
psychic antecedent and consequent, the first link has no 
antecedent and the last one has no consequent. The 
phenomena of sleep, of hypnosis, of amnesia, of uncon- 
sciousness, of syncope show that the psychic process 
may be cut short anywhere in its course, and may re- 
sume its flow from any given link or stage. The links 
that go to form the psychic process hang loosely, and 
any link may really be without an antecedent or without 
a consequent. 

In many cases the seemingly lost antecedent 



84 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

can still be found in the subconscious, dissociated 
from the active stream of consciousness constituting for 
the time being the conscious personality or the self-con- 
sciousness of the subject, such for instance is the case in 
the many forms of functional psychopathic diseases and 
also in hypnosis. In other cases, such for instance, as 
unconsciousness of epilepsy, the stream of consciousness 
is interrupted and resumed only after a certain period of 
time, not even the subconscious can supply us the 
missing link. In normal sleep we meet once more with 
an interruption of the current of consciousness, and it is 
only under certain conditions, such as dreaming, that the 
subconscious can supply the missing states. Each psychic 
process is like the life process of a given individual, it 
has a definite beginning and a definite end; while a 
physical process has neither beginning nor end, and can 
be followed out endlessly in the direction of the line of 
antecedents or consequents. In other words while a 
physical process is infinite, a psychic process is finite. 

Let P be a physical process and p represent a link in 
that process, then p 1 , p 11 , p lu , etc., may be represented 
as its consequents, while pi, p=, pa, pi, etc., may be rep- 
resented as its antecedents. P therefore may be repre- 
sented by the following infinite series : 

P= +p*+ps+p 2 +p 1 +(p)+p 1 +p U +p 111 +p 1U1 + 



The series is infinite in both directions, in direction of 
pi antecedents, and in the direction of p 1 consequents. 

Let S represent a psychic process, s a link in that pro- 
cess, s 1 s 11 s ul s mi etc., its consequents and Si, s.-, ss, s*, 
etc., its antecedents, then the psychic process can be rep- 
resented by the following series : 



Deductive Basis of Psychological Hypothesis 85 
S= +sd-S3+sd- Sl + (s) Xs 1 +s 11 +s lu +s im + 

Now this series is finite, it begins at some link and ends 
with some link, neither the beginning nor the end is de- 
fined, — the series may begin at any link and end at any 
link. Since the process may begin anywhere in the series, 
there is really no necessary connection between the links 
of the series. In the physical process on the contrary, 
the series is infinite, and any link has a determinate 
necessarily given preceding and succeeding link. In 
other words, while the links of the physical process are 
necessarily causally connected, the links of the psychic 
process have no causal necessity. 

Since the two processes, the physical and the psychic 
are postulated to run parallel to each other, their co-or- 
dination may be represented in the following series : 

S. ., +Ss+S2+ Sl +(S)+S 1 +S 11 +. ., 



+p*+p 3 +p 2 + pi + ( p ) +p 1 +p u +p 111 +p 1111 + 



Each link of the psychic process has some link of the 
physical process as its concomitant. 

s has p, si, — pi, S2 — p 2 , s 1 — p 1 , s 11 — p 11 . 

The psychic process not having its links causally con- 
nected, the causal necessity can only be followed along its 
concomitant physical or physiological series. Hence we 
can see why the physiological series is indispensable to 
the psychic series. 

The finiteness of the psychic process makes it impos- 
sible to apply to it the principle of necessity. For while 
a physical process must necessarily have a physical an- 



86 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

tecedent and physical consequent, a psychic process and 
each link of it does not necessarily have an antecedent 
or consequent, it may begin and end at any link. 

It is only by means of the physical or physiological 
series that the principles of continuity and necessary 
causal connection, the foundation of all objective science, 
can be worked in psychology. Without the help of the 
concomitant physiological series the investigator of the 
psychic process is, scientifically considered, completely 
helpless, since the psychic process has no objectively 
necessary causal interconnection. 

The "Voluntaristic" school in attempting to make of 
psychology a science independent of all physiology is 
fundamentally wrong. Without the physiological series 
psychology has no cement to fasten its material with, it 
has no foundation to build on. Psychology can main- 
tain itself in the work of objective natural sciences only 
on condition of its intimate interdependence with physi- 
ology. No psychology without physiology. The psy- 
cho-physiological hypothesis is both inductively and de- 
ductively the sine qua non of the science of psychology. 



CHAPTER XIV 

LIFE AND THE PSYCHIC PROCESS 

WE have pointed out that the psychic process 
is essentially finite and final, can we find any 
other process that should be characterized 
by the same mark of finiteness and finality? 
We find an analogous process in life. The life process 
is one that has the aspect of finiteness. Ontogenetically, 
the life-process of an organism has its beginning in the 
fertilization or stimulation to life-activity of the ovum, 
and has its end in death. Phylogenetically, the life pro- 
cess runs a determinate course. There was a time when 
geological conditions did not permit the presence of life, 
and there will come a time when life will be extinct. 
Ontogenetically, the biological process is analogous to 
the mental process. The biological process, unlike the 
physical process, is not endless ; it has a definite beginning 
and end. Taking any stage of the process as the start- 
ing point, we find that neither the chain of antecedents, 
nor that of consequents can be followed endlessly. Being 
a finite process we find in it the same relation we discov- 
ered in the psychic process, — the first term of the series 
has no antecedent and the last one has no consequent. 
Furthermore, the biological process, like the psycholog- 
ical one, may be cut short at any stage, — the organism or 
the protoplasm may die or be killed. It is only mechan- 
ically regarded that the biological process can be worked 
into the definite texture of physical series. 

The finiteness of the life process is especially manifest- 

87 



88 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

ed from the point of finality. In examining the char- 
acter of living beings, in contradistinction to physical 
things, we find a fundamental difference between the 
two. The structure and function of living beings can 
be regarded under the concept of purpose or that of 
final causation, the purpose being the good, the ad- 
vantage, the utility of the organism. Inanimate things 
cannot be regarded under the concept of final causation, 
but under that of efficient causation. The stone lying 
yonder has no purpose, it has no special advantage for 
its material particles from its particular position. The 
inner relations of its parts and the relations of its surface- 
angles and prominences are not of any ultimate good to 
the stone, nor do we ask of what use is this particular vi- 
bration to the molecules. We do ask, however, this 
question of utility in regard to organisms. Of what use is 
the grazing or drinking to the cow? Of what use is 
this particular organ and its function to this or that 
organism? The problem of utility is one that can only 
be raised in the case of organic life, but not in the case 
of inorganic things. We can see the reason why it 
should be so. Life may be regarded as an adaptation 
of inner and outer relations. Adaptation and fitness are 
important criteria with biological processes. What is 
the fitness, or utility of organs and their functions to the 
particular organism, and how have they come to this 
given state of fitness? These problems cannot be ig- 
nored by biology as a science. The whole of the Dar- 
winian theory aims to give the key to the way the differ- 
ent forms of adaptations have come about. Adaptation 
and utility, however, mean aims. A biological process 
is not an endless series of antecedents and consequents, 
but one that has an end. A life process is a final pro- 



Life and the Psychic Process 89 

cess taking place in the organism in its internal and essen- 
tial adjustments. 

The finality of the life process is clearly brought out, 
if looked at from a totally different point of view. The 
most characteristic feature of a living organism, is its 
being an organic whole, a unity, an individuality. All 
the parts of the organism bear relation to and have their 
significance with regard to the organism as a whole. The 
fin of the fish, the wing of the bird, and the arm of the 
man cease to be what they are, if separated from the 
particular individual to which they respectively belong. 
The structure and function of the part can be under- 
stood only in relation to the needs of the organic whole. 
The parts of the individual subserve the organic unity. 
In the course of evolution, both ontogenetic and phylo- 
genetic, parts may arise or drop out for the benefit and 
advantage of the whole. Mechanically considered, an 
organism is nothing but a heap of vibrating molecules 
or atoms; biologically regarded, this heap constitutes a 
whole, an individual, and each vibration is for the good 
of this whole, if the individual is to maintain itself in 
existence. 

It may be objected that a machine, though purely me- 
chanical, may be similarly defined. A machine consti- 
tues a whole, a unity, and every part bears a definite re- 
lation to the whole, and cannot in fact be understood 
without the knowledge of the machine as a whole. Who, 
without knowing a watch as a whole, could have guessed 
the function of a particular wheel or spring, if shown 
by itself? Each part within a mechanism has its dis- 
tinctive character only in relation to the other parts 
forming an interrelated system. Should this be granted, 
in what sense, then, it may be asked, does an organism 



90 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

differ from a mechanism? Must not then a biological 
process be, after all, reduced to mechanical terms; and 
if this be so, is not rather the opposite statement the cor- 
rect one, namely, that a biological process does not 
really differ from a physical process? This, however, 
is not so. The difference between the two is a funda- 
mental one. The unity of the mechanism does not lie 
in the machine per se, but in the needs and mind of the 
mechanician, while the organic unity is postulated as be- 
ing in the organism itself. The purpose of the machine 
does not lie in the machine itself, but in needs outside 
itself; no machine exists, for its own advantage and 
good, from its very nature a machine is for something 
else. 

An organism, on the contrary, constitutes its own 
purpose. No organism in nature, not as yet modified 
by artificial selection, exists entirely for the good of 
another. The structure and functions of the parts of 
an organism are for the good and advantage of that 
particular individual. Unlike a machine, the purpose 
falls not outside, but inside the organism. An organ- 
ism forms a closed circle, a microcosm, to which the 
macrocosm is made subservient. Each organism is a 
centre from which rays radiate to all the points of the 
universe; in other words, an organism is an end for 
which everything else is nothing but a means. Darwin 
was so much impressed with this teleological aspect of 
organic life that he frankly admitted that, if only one 
example in a natural state could be produced, an exam- 
ple of an organism showing structure and function use- 
ful not to itself, but to another organism, his whole 
theory of evolution would fall to the ground. A mech- 
anism is a means, never an end; g,n organism is an end^ 



Life and the Psychic Process 91 

never a means. 

A biological process is finite, it has a definite begin- 
ning and end ; it is also final, inasmuch as it is supposed 
to be of some use to the organism in which the process 
takes place. This does not mean, however, that the 
biological process cannot be looked at from a purely me- 
chanical standpoint. Every object, every external ob- 
jective process can be looked at from the point of view 
of pure mechanism, where the series of antecedents and 
consequents is infinite, where only atoms and their move- 
ments have supreme sway; but while some objects and 
processes admit only of this standpoint, others admit 
also of another point of view, namely the teleological 
in which the leading principles are unity, synthesis, and 
purpose. 

Biological processes certainly admit of mechanical 
treatment, they can be worked into the infinite series 
of mechanical causes and effect, but, then, these 
processes so regarded, are simply mechanical and cease 
to be biological. Life is regarded under a teleo- 
logical aspect. Science need not necessarily be 
entirely mechanical, it may also deal with pur- 
poses, not self-conscious, not even conscious, but 
still with purposes, which on account of their not being 
conscious are to be treated according to the principle of 
efficient causation. Such is the method of Darwin, in 
opposition to that of Lamarck. The purposive life 
processes are treated by Darwin on the principle of 
efficient causation. 

They who want to reduce biology to mechanism 
should reflect on the meaning of evolution. From a 
mechanical standpoint, evolution, — the basis of biology, 
is meaningless. Molecules, atoms and their vibrations 



92 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

can have neither lower nor higher stages, they are all 
on the same plane, following the same laws from all 
eternity. 

If from our long digression on the nature of the bio- 
logical process, we now return to the subject under dis- 
cussion, namely, the psychological process, we can re- 
alize clearly the point of view from which psychic life 
should be regarded. The psychic process is primarily 
a life process. 

Since the life-process is regarded under a teleological 
aspect, it follows that the psychic process should be 
treated in the same way. The psychic process is the 
highest stage in the evolution of life, and as such should 
be studied not by the instruments of mechanics and 
chemistry, but by the methods of biology. In addition 
to the concept of efficient causation, psychology even 
more than biology, should also work with the concepts 
of unity, synthesis, and purpose. 



CHAPTER XV 

THE CHANCE ASPECT OF LIFE AND MIND 

THE teleology of the biological process should, 
however, be somewhat limited. We are apt 
to overestimate the utility of organs and 
functions in the world of living beings. There 
may be organs which are of no use to the organism, and 
there may be functions which are indifferent and even 
positively harmful to life. It is questionable whether 
the thymus gland, the tonsils, the appendix are of any 
use to man, and it is quite certain that a number of 
physiological processes take place in the organism which 
are indifferent and even detrimental to the life existence 
of the individual. 

"In every organism" says Morgan, "there are parts 
of the body whose processes cannot be of vital import- 
ance to the individual. The rudimentary organs, so 
called, furnish many examples of structures whose 
presence may be of little or of no use to the individual; 
in fact as in the case of the appendix of man the or- 
gans may be a source of great danger to the individual. 
Another example of the same thing is 
found in the rudimentary eyes of animals living in the 
dark, such as the mole and several cave animals, fishes, 
amphibia, and insects. There are still other organs 
which cannot be looked upon as rudimentary, yet whose 
presence can scarcely be considered as essential to the 
life of the individual. For instance, the electric organs 
in some of the rays and fish can hardly protect the ani- 

93 



94 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

mal from enemies, even when as highly developed as 
in the torpedo; and we do not know of any other 
essential service they can perform. Whether the same 
may also be said of the phosphorescent organs of 
many animals is perhaps open in some cases to doubt, 
but there can be little question that the light produced 
by most of the small marine organisms, such as noctilica, 
jellyfish, ctenophores, copepods, pyrosoma, etc., can- 
not be of use to these animals in protecting them from 
attack. In the case of certain bacteria it seems quite 
evident that the production of light can be of no use 
as such to them. The production of light may be only 
a sort of by-product of changes going on in the organ- 
ism, and has no relation to outside conditions. In cer- 
tain cases, as in the glowworm, it has been supposed 
that the display may serve to bring the sexes together; 
but since the phosphorescent organs are also present in 
the larval stages of the glowworm, and since even the 
egg itself is said to be phosphorescent, it is improbable, 
in these stages at least, that the presence of the light is 
of service to the organism. 

While it is difficult to show that the wonderful pat- 
terns and magnificent coloration of many of the larger 
animals are not of service to the animal, however scep- 
tical we may be on the subject, yet in the case of many 
microscopic forms that are equally brilliantly colored 
there can be little doubt that the coloration can be of no 
special service to them. We also see in other cases that 
the presence of color need not be connected with any 
use that it bears as such to the animal. For instance, the 
beautiful colors on the inside of the shells of many 
marine snails and of bivalve mollusks, can be of no use 
to the animal that makes the shell, because as long as 



The Chance Aspect of Life and Mind 95 

the animal is alive this color cannot be seen from the 
outside. . . . The splendid coloring of the leaves 
in autumn is certainly of no service to the organism. 

As an example of a change in the organism that is of 
no use to it may be cited the case of the turning white of 
the hair in old age in man and in several other mam- 
mals. The absorption of bone at the angle of the chin 
in man is another case of a change of no immediate use 
to the individual. We also find in many other changes 
that accompany old age, processes going on that are of 
no use to the organism, and which may in the end be 
the cause of its death." 

We cannot help agreeing with Morgan that the tele- 
ology of the biological process is not always evident. 
A number of processes in the world of life are 
indifferent, useless, and even detrimental to the life 
existence of the organism. All the biological pro- 
cesses that lead to the decline of the organism are cer- 
tainly not useful to the individual; neither are all 
the processes of a pathological character to which 
organisms are often subjected in their relations with 
and adaptation to the external environment. There 
is certainly no more flimsy, more superficial, and more 
specious reasoning than the one that ascribes a meaning, 
utility, and purpose to every organ, function, and physio- 
logical process found in the organism. The teleological 
speculations are often a matter of ingenious casuistry. 

The evolutionist who works with the teleological con- 
cept of utility must assume spontaneous variation as an 
important factor in the development of life. In other 
words, out of a great number of many variations, harm- 
ful, indifferent, and useful, the ones that are useful in 
their adaptation to the external environment survive 



g6 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

or are selected by the process of natural selection. This 
clearly requires the presence of a great number 
of variations which show no adaptations and therefore 
are not useful. The utility and adaptation manifested 
by the biological processes are due to the presence of 
an immense number of variations of biological processes 
which are useless, indifferent, and even harmful. 

The struggle for existence with its survival of the fit- 
test and the principle of spontaneous variations clearly 
indicate the presence of biological processes which are 
essentially purposeless. The theory of evolution, at least 
from a Darwinian standpoint, the most scientific of 
evolutionary hypotheses, is based on the empirical as- 
sumption that the unadapted variations far exceed in 
number the adapted or useful variations. Useful pur- 
posive biological processes are rare, few, and accidental, 
while the indifferent, the useless and the purposeless 
biological processes are by far the most common. The 
purposive processes are the accidental and the excep- 
tional, while the purposeless processes are the rule. It is 
out of the purposeless that the purposive processes de- 
velop. The fully developed biological process, the fully 
developed organism is purposeful, because of its selec- 
tion of the purposeful out of the great mass of purpose- 
less biological processes and unadapted organisms. 

In the psychological process a similar state prevails. 
The general outcome may have purpose, but this is ac- 
complished at the expense of a great number of pro- 
cesses which are accidental, meaningless, and purpose- 
less. The sensations, feelings, emotions, and ideas 
that arise in our consciousness are spontaneous or 
accidental variations. They are the raw material for 
the guiding selective consciousness. Many of the psy- 



The Chance Aspect of Life and Mind 97 

chic states as they arise in consciousness are rejected by 
the selective action of attention and are left to die a 
natural death as are the rejected variations by the pro- 
cess of natural selection. Man would have been a rav- 
ing maniac, if he were to give expression to the various 
ideas that spring up spontaneously in his mind. The 
great number of ideas that throng in the antechamber 
of consciousness are in themselves purposeless. As 
Galton well puts it "Although the brain is able to do 
very fair work fluently in an automatic way, and though 
it will of its own accord, strike out sudden and happy 
ideas, it is questionable if it is capable of working thor- 
oughly and profoundly without past or present effort. 
The character of this effort seems to me chiefly to lie 
in bringing the contents of the antechamber more near- 
ly within the ken of consciousness, which then takes com- 
prehensive note of all its contents, and compels the log- 
ical faculty to test them seriatim before selecting the 
fittest for a summons to the presence chamber." In 
another place he justly remarks: "The thronging of 
the antechamber is, I am convinced, beyond my control ; 
if not, if the ideas do not come, I cannot create them 
nor compel them to come." It is certainly true we 
cannot call on our ideas to come at our bidding. They 
come and go unasked. 

Mental activity in its rational aspects whether it be 
logical, moral, or aesthetic, is essentially selective in 
character. The logical process can draw only definite 
conclusions from given premises, the moral man or the 
ethical thinker can only regard definite relations and 
behavior as right or wrong, and the man who creates 
and enjoys the beautiful can only regard certain definite 
combinations as beautiful. Even in ordinary life where 



98 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

the process of selection is not so rigid as in the arts, 
sciences, and philosophy, still the process of attention to 
maintain rationality is a severe judge in the rejection of 
the unfit ideas. In a train of ideas few ideas that offer 
themselves are accepted as fit and utilized by the guid- 
ing thought. The stream of consciousness as it rushes 
along picks up objects that are intended for and help 
to reach the destination set out. Every idea, every 
thought as it presents itself to the guiding process is 
selected with respect to the purpose of the given stream 
of thought. 

The thoughts that present themselves at any one 
moment are meaningless and purposeless, they are 
simply the accidental chance material which the giv- 
en momentary, purposive thought selects as fit in order 
to succeed best in the achievement of its purpose. The 
ideas themselves as they present themselves are mean- 
ingless, purposeless, chance creations of the brain, like 
the phenomena of accidental variation. When the se- 
lective process of attention is rigid, more of the chance 
comers are rejected as not adapted for the purpose, 
more of the ideas rising to the antechamber of conscious- 
ness from the subconscious regions are found to be 
purposeless. A Kepler rejects a number of generaliza- 
tions before he finds the formulae of his laws that an- 
swer his purpose in the co-ordination of his facts. 

At the same time different minds, like different ani- 
mals, differ in the spontaneous or accidental variations 
to which they can give rise. The dull mind has but few 
such variations, while the man of genius, like the en- 
dowed animal, has a mass of accidental variations from 
which to select in the adaptation to the purpose of the 
thought. The man of genius whether as artist or thinker 



The Chance Aspect of Life and Mind 99 

requires a mass of accidental variations to select from 
and a rigidly selective process of attention. A great 
wealth of chance variation of thoughts to select from 
is the special endowment of the man of genius. 

When the process of attention relaxes in the rigidity 
of its selective activity, more chance images and acci- 
dental variations of thoughts are presented to and ac- 
cepted by consciousness; the selective thought does not 
hold on to its purpose, the stream of thought becomes 
constituted of relatively purposeless chance images and 
accidental ideas. Such states occur in day-reveries or un- 
der the influence of alcohol and various toxins as well as 
in the hypnoidal, hypnagogic, and hypnopagogic 
states. When the process of attention becomes com- 
pletely relaxed as in sleep, fever, or in the acute forms 
of mental maladies, the chance images and accidental va- 
riations of ideas come and go without aim and purpose. 
Purposeless thought is as much the rule of mental life 
as purposeless accidental variations are the rule of or- 
ganic life. Like the fully developed biological process, 
the fully developed mental state presents purpose in its 
selective activity. Purpose, however, arises out of chaos, 
out of chance variations. Our dreams, our unintentional 
errors in speech, writing and action are due to the many 
chance thoughts which either intrude themselves on 
consciousness in spite of the selective rigid process of 
attention, or are due to the momentary relaxation of the 
selective process. Chance-thoughts, meaningless images 
and ideas, like accidental variations, form one of the 
most important factors in the evolution of purposive 
mental activity. 

The so-called "psycho-analytic science" is erroneous, 
not only because of its fallacious "psychic causation," but 



ioo Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

also because it is based on the fallacy of regarding each 
and every mental state as purposive in character. This 
pseudo-psychology misses the fundamental fact that 
many psychic occurrences are like many biological oc- 
currences, mere chance variations. These chance varia- 
tions form the matrix out of which the purposive psychic 
process arises. Not purpose, but chance is at the heart 
of mental life. 



CHAPTER XVI 

ACTIVITY OF MENTAL LIFE 

THE popular mind regards cause as a strain- 
ing agency which acts in agony of labor on 
resisting material, finally fashioning it and 
giving rise to the effect; such a relation is 
considered as constituting the very essence of activity. 
This anthropomorphic or animistic view of cause and 
effect must be rejected by the scientist. The cause does 
not beget the effect in labor, in strain. To conceive 
causes as straining agencies is due to the fact that the 
popular mind has a tendency to mythological creations, 
to regard natural phenomena as products fashioned by 
living agencies. The common-sense man in fashioning 
his material works with his muscles and experiences 
muscular sensation of strain, of push and pull, hence in 
regarding the changes in the course of natural pro- 
cesses, he projects into them his subjective muscular ex- 
periences. Science, however, has succeeded in freeing 
itself from all animism, and does not invoke the will and 
labor of deities and spirits as the causes of physical phe- 
nomena, nor does it regard causes themselves as little 
deities and sprites with will and strain in the produc- 
tion of effects. 

Objectively regarded, what nature presents is only 
sequences of events, or phenomena, and the only 
relationship observed between cause and effect is 
simply one of invariable sequence. If of two phe- 
nomena one antecedent and the other consequent, the 

IOI 



102 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

consequent is invariably observed to depend in its vari- 
ation on the antecedent, such an antecedent is declared 
to be the cause of the consequent. To give an illustra- 
tion. If a stone falls from a certain height on a heap 
of many layers of thin glass, the stone in falling breaks 
the glass. We declare the stone to be the cause of 
the breaking of the glass, why? Because we observe 
the fall of the stone, and on reproducing the same con- 
ditions, the same results follow; fall of stone, then 
breaking of glass. Furthermore, increasing the weight 
of the stone, more layers of glass are broken, on decreas- 
ing the weight of the stone less layers are broken, vari- 
ations in the consequent depend on the variations of the 
antecedent. We may similarly change the distance from 
which the stone falls, and the effect will vary once more. 
On changing the material of the stone the amount 
of breakage will vary once more. Furthermore, on 
changing the consistency of the glass layer the effect 
will again vary. In short, where the phenomena 
are observed to stand to each other in functional rela- 
tion of invariable sequence, the antecedent is declared 
to be the cause of the consequent, such, as in our exam- 
ple, the fall of the stone is regarded as the cause of the 
breaking of the glass. What is observed is simply 
an invariable sequence, so much stone momentum, 
so much glass breakage. No strain or enforcement 
are ever observed between causes and effects. No 
strain is observed in the falling stone to produce 
the effect, nor is it ever detected that the glass re- 
sists and is forced into the broken state by the power 
of the stone. 

Strain, resistance, enforcement, power, are all states 
drawn from experiences of our psychic life. As Mach 



Activity of Mental Life 103 

puts it: "There is but one sort of constancy which 
embraces all forms of constancy, constancy of con- 
nection (or of relation). The majority of the prop- 
ositions of natural science express such constancies 
of connection: 'The tadpole is metamorphosed into 
a frog; chlorate of sodium makes its appearance in 
the form of cubes. Rays of light are retilinear. 
Bodies fall with an acceleration of 9.81.' When these 
constancies are expressed in concepts we call them laws. 
Force (in the mechanical significance) is likewise merely 
a constancy of connections. When I say that a body 
A exerts a force on a body B, I mean that B, on 
coming into contraposition with A, is immediately af- 
fected by a certain acceleration with respect to A. 
The singular illusion that the substance A is the ab- 
solutely constant vehicle of a force which takes ef- 
fect immediately on B's being contraposed to A is 
easily shaken. . . . The phrases, 'No matter 
without force, no force without matter,' which are 
all but abortive attempts to remove a self incurred 
contradiction, become superfluous on our recognizing 
only constancies of connection." 

Similarly Karl Pearson regards the scientific law "as 
a brief description in mental short hand of as wide a 
range as possible of the sequences of our sense-impres- 
sions" or experiences. "If the stone from my hand 
break a window, the cause of the broken window might 
very likely be spoken of as the moving stone. But al- 
though this usage is an approach to the scientific usage 
of the word cause, it yet involves in the popular esti- 
mation an idea of enforcement which is not in the lat- 
ter. That the stone moving with a certain speed must 
bring about the destruction of the window is, I think, 



104 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

the idea involved in thus speaking of the moving stone 
as the cause of the breakage. But were our perceptive 
organs sufficiently powerful, science conceives that we 
should see before the impact particles of window and 
particles of stone moving in a certain manner, and after 
the impact the same particles moving in a very different 
manner. We might carefully describe these motions, 
but we should be unable to say why one stage would fol- 
low another, just as we can describe how a stone falls to 
the earth, but not say why it does. Thus scientifically 
the idea of necessity in the stages of the sequence — stone 
in motion, broken window — or the idea of enforcement 
would disappear; we should have a routine of experi- 
ence. When we speak however of the stage of a se- 
quence in ordinary life as causes, I do not think it is be- 
cause we are approaching the scientific standpoint, but 
I fear it arises from our associating, through long 
usage the idea of force with the stone. . . . Force 
as cause of motion is exactly on the same footing as a 
tree god as cause of growth — both are but names to hide 
our ignorance of the why in the routine of our percep- 
tions. The necessity in a law of nature has not the 
logical must of a geometrical theorem, nor the cate- 
gorical must of a human law-giver; it is merely our ex- 
perience of a routine whose stages have neither logical 
nor volitional order. In what we have termed second- 
ary causes (successive stages of the sequence) science 
finds no element of enforcement, solely the routine of 
experience." 

Within certain limits the psychic process, like the 
physical process, may be regarded as an activity, as a 
series of phenomena, as a sequence of antecedents and 
consequents, or as Pearson puts it, as a routine of experi- 



Activity of Mental Life 105 

ence. This activity of course should not be regarded 
as a metaphysical agency in the sense of a supersensuous 
soul, but as a successive series of psychic events. From 
a scientific standpoint the physical process is regarded 
as a series of successive physical events. Similarly the 
psychic process may be regarded as a series of succes- 
sive states consisting of psychic elements, presentative 
and representative. 

Final, and finite as the psychic process is, it has a 
series of antecedents and consequents. In so far as these 
can be traced, one can keep within the bounds of the 
psychic process only. Furthermore, in so far as the 
series of psychic antecedents and consequents persists 
we are fully justified in speaking of the whole series as 
a process, a form of activity, in short as mental activity. 

If by activity is understood the sequence of antece- 
dents and consequents, the position taken by some psy- 
chologists in declaring the mental stream as inactive is 
unacceptable. There is activity in the psychic process, if 
by activity is meant not the popular belief in actual bonds 
between cause and effect, but mere sequence of antece- 
dents and consequents. The only difference we can 
find between them is the finality and finiteness as well as 
lack of invariable or necessary sequence of antecedents 
and consequents characteristic of the psychic process in 
contradistinction to the infinite series and invariable, 
necessary, or causal sequence, presented by the physical 
process. 



CHAPTER XVII 

THE POSTULATES OF PSYCHOLOGY 

WITH all other sciences psychology must 
postulate the existence of an external ma- 
terial world of space, time, and objects. 
Psychology does not inquire into the nature 
of these objects, as to what they are in themselves. This 
as we pointed out is the business of metaphysics, not of 
science. Psychology however does ask how we come to 
know the outside world ; it inquires as to the process by 
which external reality comes to be presented in con- 
sciousness. 

The fact that psychology postulates an external ma- 
terial world and studies it in so far as it comes to be 
reflected in consciousness, points to another postulate 
which psychology must assume in addition, namely, the 
existence of an inner world consciousness. This postu- 
late is peculiar to psychology, no other of the descrip- 
tive and objective sciences have to assume it. Although 
it is quite clear that without mind there can possibly 
be no study, no science, still this is but an indirect reflec- 
tion which none of the concrete sciences have to take 
into consideration. Of course, a chemist is required 
for chemistry, a physicist for physics, a physiologist 
for physiology, and so on, but the chemist, the physicist, 
the physiologist do not introduce themselves into their 
science. In all concrete sciences the mind is entirely 
projected into its object, it is the external object 
itself that has to be taken into consideration. In con- 

106 



The Postulates of Psychology 107 

crete science consciousness is drowned in the object, in 
psychology, on the contrary, the object is drowned in 
consciousness. The chemist, the physicist, who will turn 
his attention to consciousness and introduce his psychic 
states, his moods, dispositions, and intentions as elements 
into his investigations will hardly be an exact scientist. 
Not so with the psychologist, he must take the inner 
world into account, he must deal with consciousness, 
with moods, with feelings. It is true that he must treat 
them as objects, but these objects, unlike those of other 
positive sciences, are after all of the inner subjective 
world of consciousness. For the very essence of psy- 
chology is the taking account of phenomena of con- 
sciousness. 

In our last statement that psychology deals with the 
objective external world as reflected in consciousness 
another postulate is implied. Besides the external and 
internal worlds, psychology also postulates the interre- 
lation of the two. 

This interrelation is not direct, it is not one of ante- 
cedent, and consequent, but that of coexistence; for as 
we have already pointed out, the two series of phe- 
nomena, the mental and the physiological, must be as- 
sumed as concomitant, as running parallel to each 
other. If, however, by "the external world" we un- 
derstand the universe of objects exclusive of the func- 
tioning psycho-physiological processes then we may say 
that it stands to the phenomena of consciousness in re- 
lation both of sequence and coexistence. 

The objective external world enters into relation with 
consciousness only through the intermediacy of physio- 
logical nervous processes. Only on this condition can 
the external world enter into relation with conscious- 



108 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

ness, and under special conditions become its direct 
object. I take a dose of opium, mescal, or cannabis 
Indica, and have different hallucinations and illu- 
sions, mental activity is stimulated. The mind teems 
with sensations, images, ideas, feelings, emotions, 
moods ; now the whole organism is pierced by sharp 
pain, now it tingles with indescribable acute pleas- 
ure; now a charming vision appears, a beautiful 
scenery unrolls before the mind's eye, a feeling of per- 
fect heavenly bliss diffuses itself all over our conscious 
being; now a disgusting, ugly figure presents itself, a 
horrible scene is witnessed that plunges the mind into an 
abyss of misery. The current of consciousness is ac- 
celerated and it drives its waves with more vigor than 
ever. 

Instead of being accelerated, the current may be 
depressed and retarded even to such a degree as to 
plunge the mind into a deep sleep. Such retardation we 
find under the influence of bromides, or of anaesthetics, 
such as ether, chloroform, of hypnotics, such as sulfonal, 
chloral and others. We have here the action of a drug, 
of an external object on the physiological nervous pro- 
cesses with their psychic concomitants. In this case, 
however, the drug itself does not become the direct ob- 
ject of consciousness. Through the mere absorption of 
opium, cannabis or belladonna, we can know nothing of 
their constitution, we can know nothing of their color, 
of their size, of their weight, specific gravity and so 
on, we cannot possibly perceive them as objects. The 
states of consciousness which cannabis, for instance, gives 
rise to affords no knowledge of the external objective 
nature of the drug itself. 

A direct knowledge of an external object is acquired 



The Postulates of Psychology 109 

through the special senses. Yonder is an object, an 
inkstand. It stimulates the peripheral sense organ, the 
eye, the retina, the physiological processes aroused in 
the rods and cones are transmitted by the optic nerve 
and by the optic tracts to the visual centres of the occi- 
pital lobes, the functioning of which is accompanied 
by sensations of sight. The wave of stimulation 
spreads from the visual centres to other centres closely 
associated with them. They too begin to function with 
more or less intensity, accompanied by images, ideas, 
thought, which constitute the perception of the ink- 
stand yonder. The combined activity, or function of a 
whole system of centres gives rise to the percept ink- 
stand along with its psychic fringe, with the stream of 
consciousness in which it is bathed. We see and know 
the inkstand. 

From a psychological standpoint the mode of action 
of the inkstand differs radically from that of the opium. 
The latter may be characterized as psycho-physiological, 
or even purely physiological, the former may be termed 
psycho-physical or psychological, perceptual. The one 
gives rise to perception, to knowledge of the external ob- 
ject, while the other does not. Both, however, agree in 
this that they can enter into relations with consciousness 
only through the intermediacy of physiological nervous 
processes. The two modes of action and their rela- 
tion to consciousness may be represented by the follow- 
ing diagrams: 

I. Psycho-physical or perceptual relation. 

II. Psycho-physiological relation. 



Iio Normal and Abnormal Psychology 



I 




Fig. II 

In fig. I, Ob. is the object stimulating S. the organ of 
special sense, giving rise to physiological nervous 
processes with their concomitant psychic states consti- 
tuting the subjective object which is objectified in the 
object yonder. In Fig. II, D. is the drug acting directly 
on the nervous centre the stimulated activity of which 
gives rise to the perception of an external object Ob. 
Thus we find that external physical and physiological 
processes are causally related, or stand to each other in 
relation of invariable or necessary sequence while the 
physiological and psychic processes stand in relation of 
coexistence. What the nature of this inter-relation is 
and how it is possible are problems for epistemology 
and metaphysics. Psychology must assume this inter- 
relation as its postulate. 

If psychology is to be a science at all, it must postu- 
late the uniformity of the phenomena with which it 



The Postulates of Psychology in 

deals. This we have pointed out in our second chapter 
when we discussed the subject matter of psychology. 
We turn to it again in order to realize clearly its full 
meaning in psychology. Psychology, as we know, in 
addition to the external world of physical sci- 
ences, also postulates consciousness. Its postulate of 
uniformity is, therefore, far more complex than in other 
positive sciences. With physical science psychology must 
postulate uniformity of the external world, because it 
presupposes the physical sciences, and because the ex- 
ternal world forms the content and object of conscious- 
ness. This, however, is not sufficient. Psychology must 
also postulate the uniformity in the inner world of psy- 
cho-physiological, or mental phenomena. Were there 
no uniformity in the phenomena of consciousness, psy- 
chology, as a science would have been an impossibility. 
This, however, is not all. Psychology must also 
postulate the uniformity of relationship between the 
phenomena of the external and inner worlds. Definite 
physical processes must be concomitant with certain well 
defined psychic states. Were this otherwise, the two 
series, the mental and the physical, would be out of 
joint, the relations of coexistence would no longer 
be obtained, and the two series would stand to 
each other in no relation at all; thus noise, for 
instance, would sometimes be smelled, sometimes 
tasted, and sometimes seen. Psychology as a science 
that deals with general laws, would certainly have 
been impossible. We would neither have been able 
to express to others our states of consciousness in 
uniform definite movements, nor would it have been 
possible for others to understand us, nor would it have 
been possible to call forth in others certain desired states 



112 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

of consciousness; in short, not only psychology would 
have been an impossibility, but also all human inter- 
course. The myth of the tower of Babel would have 
been fully realized. Psychology must postulate uni- 
formity of interrelation of physical, physiological, and 
psychic processes. 



CHAPTER XVIII 



MENTAL SYNTHESIS 



ONE of the fundamental principles of psy- 
chology is mental synthesis. Objects that 
appear within the same consciousness are 
synthetized in a unity, if they are taken cog- 
nizance of. An object a may be presented to conscious- 
ness, and another object b may be similarly perceived. 
They remain two and separate as long as con- 
sciousness does not take cognizance of their duality, 
of their being two objects, but as soon as the 
two appear in consciousness together and are perceived 
as two, they are by this very fact synthetized into a 
unity. This is a point which may not possibly be so 
clear, and is also hard to realize for those who have 
been used to work in concrete sciences. The reason is 
that the mind is accustomed to dwell on the object 
of thought, not on the function of thought itself, and is 
therefore used to take the object for the thought. The 
confusion between the thought that possesses the ob- 
ject, and the object of thought is a fallacy that is as a 
rule committed by the intelligence trained to busy itself 
only with external objects. Our reader sees, of 
course, through this fallacy, he knows that the thing 
of the idea and the idea of the thing are not identical. 
The paper on which I write is white and is five inches 
wide and eight inches long, but my idea of the paper is 
neither white nor has it so many inches in width and 
length. 

"3 



H4 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

The same fallacy, however, is not so very obvious 
when it appears under a somewhat different guise. The 
object of thought has parts, therefore it is concluded 
that the thought of the object must also be made up of 
corresponding parts. Because the chain in the external 
world is made up of so many links, it is concluded that 
the idea of the chain is made up of so many ideas of 
links, and that the total sum of the ideas of the links 
forms the idea of the chain. The idea of the chain, 
however, is not a mere juxtaposition of so many ideas 
of links. The ideas of the links would have remained 
in the juxtaposed disconnected condition, had they not 
been connected and synthetized in one new idea, the idea 
of the chain. The word is made up of so many letters, 
but the sum of the letters is not the idea of the word. 
The phrase is made up of words, but the mere sum of 
the words does not make sense, does not form the idea 
of that sentence. 

It is of the utmost importance to fully and clearly 
realize this principle of mental synthesis. Many a mis- 
understanding in psychology is cleared up, by keeping 
this principle clearly before one's mind. We may say 
that it is one of the principal keys that gives us an en- 
trance into the science of psychology. A sum of sensa- 
tions, of ideas, of images, of feelings, etc., at once 
brought in consciousness as a sum is by this very fact 
synthetized by thought into a unity. The chair yonder 
is composed of many parts, it has four legs, a seat, a 
back, and each part in its turn is again made up of many 
parts. Each part, if represented in consciousness at all, 
has its corresponding idea, but the idea of these com- 
ponent parts, the idea of the chair is a whole, a unity, no 
longer being a conglomeration of parts. Objectively 



Mental Synthesis 115 

considered, that man yonder is made up of many parts, 
of many organs, of many tissues, of millions of cells. 
To my consciousness, however, he is one, my friend 
John. 

An idea is not made up of parts, as is the object of the 
idea. Before me lies a grain of wheat, I have a percept 
of it, I have an idea of that grain. The grain may be di- 
vided into halves, or quarters, and I can form an idea 
of a half, of a third, or of a quarter of a grain. Is it 
possible to do the same thing with the idea ? Can we sub- 
divide the idea of the grain in the same way as we did 
the grain itself? Can we have a half, a third, a quar- 
ter of an idea of the grain? One realizes the 
impossibility and absurdity of subdividing an idea. We 
can have an idea of a third of a pound, but it is absurd 
to talk of a third of an idea of a pound. A third of 
an idea is simply so much nonsense. But why is it ab- 
surd to subdivide an idea? Why is it nonsense to 
speak of having a half, a third, a quarter or any frac- 
tion or part of an idea? Evidently because an idea is 
essentially a synthesis, a unity, and has no parts. 

This synthesis, or unity is more or less clear when 
the percept, or idea is of such a nature as to be syn- 
thetized into a numerical unity, and be projected into 
the external world, such for instance, as the chair, the 
table, the house, or my friend John. It is, however, 
far less clear when thought includes many ideas, many 
percepts and the nature of the synthetized unity is mul- 
tiplicity. There are in my room four chairs. I per- 
ceive them as being four. Have I not four percepts, 
four ideas going to make up my idea of the sum of the 
chairs ? Certainly not. What we have here is not four 
ideas, but one idea of there being four chairs. A sum 



n6 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

of ideas is not the same thing as the idea of their sum, 
just as in algebra the sum of squares is not the same 
as the square of the sum. I think a sentence "I took 
a stroll in the forest yesterday morning." The sentence 
forms a multiplicity of words, but in spite of all that 
multiplicity, the phrase appears in consciousness as one 
whole, as a synthetized unity. Synthetic unity is the 
essence, the backbone of thought. 

This synthetic unity of consciousness can be made 
still clearer by the following example. Let the reader 
imagine a row of men, each thinking one single word of 
the sentence : "We are standing here in a row." There 
is here a completely isolated series of ideas, but the 
words in the series will remain in their full isolation and 
as such will make no meaning, no one sentence, as long 
as they will be confined to different disconnected 
thoughts, and not unified in the synthesis of one synthetic 
thought or of what I term moment-consciousness. 

To have the idea of a conglomeration, of a mul- 
tiplicity of objects, images or ideas, a synthetizing 
moment consciousness is required, a moment-con- 
sciousness that should take cognizance of all these 
objects, images or ideas and synthetize them into 
a unity, the one idea of the many. The many words, 
the many ideas must be synthetized in one moment-con- 
sciousness before the idea of the sentence can emerge. 
This synthesis, in fact, is that one idea. Ideas, images, 
thoughts, feelings do not come together, fuse into one, 
and make one idea. 

A book is a complex object, it is a conglomeration of 
pages, letters, words, lines, sentences, paragraphs, chap- 
ters. We can have an idea of half a book, but it is 
certainly absurd to have half an idea of a book. 



Mental Synthesis 117 

It means nothing at all; the idea itself has not 
been formed, and as such, as an idea, is totally 
absent. A separate synthesis in consciousness is requisite 
in order to have an aggregation, or association of ideas 
cognized as one. Ideas do not meet, associate and form 
a unity, mental synthesis is required. Such a synthesis 
is always effected, whenever a moment-consciousness gets 
cognizance of many objects; in other words, sensations, 
ideas, feelings, images can only get unified in the syn- 
thesis of a moment-consciousness. Mental synthesis of 
psychic content in the unity of a moment-consciousness 
is a fundamental principle of psychology. 

It is the great and fundamental error of the asso- 
ciationists to overlook this all important element of 
synthesis in consciousness. They commit the fal- 
lacy of regarding a mechanical combination, or jux- 
taposition of ideas as making a "fusion," a synthesis, 
a unity. There is an idea of A, and there is an idea of 
B, therefore, it is tacitly assumed that there is the idea of 
A and B. This as we have shown is a fallacy. The 
associationists regard the idea of a sum as consisting of 
as many parts, but only "fused," as the sum itself. This 
is erroneous. The neglect of the element of mental 
synthesis and the consequent identification of the idea 
of the sum as a whole with the sum of ideas of the parts 
going to make up the external sum falsified the other- 
wise rich researches of the association school. The sig- 
nificance of mental synthesis in the moment-consciousness 
can hardly be overestimated. We shall return to the 
theory of the moment-consciousness and its mental syn- 
thesis further on. 

The question as to the nature of that mental syn- 
thesis does not fall within the province of psychology. 



1 1 8 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

Like all other problems that refer to the ultimate na- 
ture of things and how they are possible, the problem of 
the inner nature of mental synthesis does not belong to 
science, but to epistemology and metaphysics. 



CHAPTER XIX 



THEORIES OF PERCEPTION 



THE theory of perception is fundamental both 
in normal and abnormal psychology. All 
mental activities are intimately related with 
the process of perception. Our wills, our 
thoughts and our feelings relate to our experience of the 
outer world of things. Biologically regarded, the per- 
cept is of the most vital importance, inasmuch as it 
forms the medium between the individual and the outer 
environment. Psychologically, the percept reflects the 
external world and mirrors the conditions of life to 
which the given organism has to adjust itself. In fact, 
the percept may be regarded as the coin possessing the 
value of the external environment. In this respect we 
cannot help agreeing with Baldwin's statement: 
"The theory of perception is perhaps the most 
important as well as the most difficult problem in psy- 
chology. The interpretation of the higher processes of 
mind rests upon it and it underlies the body of our gen- 
eral philosophy. The great philosophies of the world 
take their rise from initial differences in the method of 
construing perception." 

In abnormal psychology the theory of perception is 
of the utmost importance, both from a theoretical and 
practical standpoint. Illusions, hallucinations, dream 
states, subconscious states, many states of dissociation 
depend for their explanation on the analysis of the pro- 
cess of perception, I have developed a theory of per- 

119 



120 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

ception which may be characterized as the doctrine of 
primary and secondary sensory elements. This doc- 
trine is based on a close analysis of the normal process 
of perception and is substantiated by observations and 
experiments of abnormal mental life. 

Before however we state our view of perception it 
may be well to make a review of what the principal 
psychological authorities teach on the subject. 

James Mill in discussing perception tells us : "The 
colors upon a body are different, according to its figure, 
its shape, and its size. But the sensations of color and 
the sensations of extension, of figure, of distance have 
been so often united, felt in conjunction that the sensa- 
tions of the color are never experienced without rais- 
ing the ideas of the extension, the figure, the distance in 
such intimate union with it, that they not only cannot 
be separated, but are actually supposed to be seen (ital- 
ics are mine). The sight, as it is called of figure, or 
distance, appearing, as it does a simple sensation, is in 
reality a complex state of consciousness, a sequence in 
which the antecedent, a sensation of color, and the con- 
sequent a number of ideas are so closely combined by 
association that they appear not one idea, but one sen- 
sation." 

Sully defines perception as a mental act that 'supple- 
ments a sense impression by an accompaniment or escort 
of revived sensations, the whole aggregate of actual 
and revived sensations being solidified or integrated into 
the form of a percept.' The revived sensations are 
equivalent to James Mill's associated ideas and images. 
We shall point out later the confusion which generally 
prevails among psychologists and psychiatrists, when 
they talk indiscriminately of revived sensations and ideas 



Theories of Perception 121 

regarding the two as identical. 

Hoffding describes the process of perception "as the 
fusing of a reproduction and an actual sensation. The 
percept is thus conceived as compounded out of a rep- 
resentation and a sensation." 

Taine tells us that "Images associated with the sen- 
sations of the different senses, especially with those of 
sight and touch constitute acquired perceptions." 

Wundt regards the percept as a psychical compound 
of ideas or of revived sensations or images. In that 
respect his analysis differs but little from that of other 
psychologists who regard the ideas, images, and revived 
sensations as identical elements going to form the asso- 
ciated whole or psychic compound, the percept. 

Kulpe speaks of 'centrally excited sensations' regard- 
ing them as the ideas and the images of the psycholo- 
gists and psychiatrists, and tells us that he avoids the 
use of 'ideas.' As far as perception is concerned he 
closely follows his master, Wundt, and talks of psychic 
compounds, of sensations and centrally excited sensa- 
tions which really are identical with the old ideas and 
images. 

Titchener follows closely Wundt and Kiilpe, and re- 
gards the 'percept as a compound, or a complex of sen- 
sations,' of peripheral and of centrally initiated sensa- 
tions. In order to be explicit he hastens to tell us that 
there is no fundamental difference between the percep- 
tion and idea. "It is customary to speak of perception, 
when the majority of the simple processes in the com- 
plex are the result of stimulation of a sense organ, i. e., 
are peripherally aroused, and of idea when the greater 
number are the result of an excitation within the brain 
cortex, i. e., are centrally aroused. If I have a table 



122 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

before me and my eyes open I am said to perceive the 
table; if I close my eyes and think of what I saw, to 
have an idea of a table. But we have seen that the sen- 
sations aroused centrally do not differ as psychological 
processes from those aroused peripherally." This state- 
ment put in such an explicit form brings out clearly what 
may be designated as the psychologist's fallacy. The 
fallacy becomes specially apparent in the domain of ab- 
normal psychology. 

Baldwin with his characteristic breadth of compre- 
hension puts the subject of perception on a wide basis: 
"Perception is the apperceptive or synthetic activity of 
mind whereby the data of sensation take on the forms 
of representation in space and time; or it is the process 
of the construction of our representation of the external 
world." Baldwin does not commit himself to the or- 
dinary fallacy current among psychologists. 

Similarly James with his genius for psychological in- 
sight tells us : "The consciousness of particular ma- 
terial things present to sense is nowadays called percep- 
tion." And again "Perception thus differs from sensa- 
tion by the consciousness of farther facts associated 
with the object of the sensation." He tells us further: 
"We certainly ought not to say what usually is said by 
psychologists and treat the perception as a sum of dis- 
tinct psychic entities, the present sensation namely, plus 
a lot of images from the past, all integrated together in 
a way impossible to describe. The perception is one 
state of mind." 

We thus see that most of the psychologists regard the 
percept somewhat in Spencerian terms as being made 
up of presentations and representations, or as Spencer 
puts it as being 'partly presentative and partly represent 



Theories of Perception 123 

tative.' In other words, the percept is a compound of 
sensations and images, a synthesis of peripherally in- 
duced sensations and of images, or of ideas centrally 
excited. One principle underlies the current theory of 
perception, variously phrased by different psychologists, 
and that is the identification of ideational and sensory 
processes. 

The identification of ideational and sensory processes 
may be traced to Spinoza when he tells us in his Ethics, 
Prop. XVII., note, "The modifications of the human 
body, of which the ideas represent external bodies as 
present to us, we will call the images of things" and then 
in another place of Part II., Prop. XLIX., note, "In 
order to illustrate the point let us suppose a boy imagin- 
ing a horse and perceiving nothing else. Inasmuch as 
this imagination involves the existence of the horse, and 
the boy does not perceive anything which would ex- 
clude the existence of the horse he will necessarily re- 
gard the horse as present; he will not be able to doubt 
its existence, although he be not certain thereof. We 
have daily experiences of such a state of things in 
dreams." The images, according to Spinoza, are equiv- 
alent to sensations and percepts, unless counteracted by 
the more intense peripheral sensations which thus be- 
come the 'reductives' of the image, a doctrine afterwards 
fully developed by Taine. I may add that Spinoza's 
view of dreams is repeated almost verbatim by the great- 
est psychological authorities, all uncritically giving their 
assent to the current fallacy that the image is but a 
weakened sensation and that the sensation is an intensi- 
fied image. 

This theory of images and perception is perpetuated 
through Hobbes, Locke, Hartley, Hume, James Mill 



124 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

down to our times. 

Hobbes in his terse English puts it: "Imagination 
therefore is nothing but decaying sense and is found 
in men and many other living beings, as well in sleeping 
as waking." 

Locke derives his 'ideas' from 'experience,' but his 
'experience' is somewhat vague and broad, inasmuch as 
it flows from two fountain heads, — sensation and re- 
flection. "Let us then suppose the mind to be as we say 
white paper void of all characters without any ideas, 
how comes it to be furnished? . . . To this I an- 
swer in one word from experience. . . . Our ob- 
servation employed either about external sensible ob- 
jects or about the internal operations of our minds, per- 
ceived and reflected on by ourselves is that which sup- 
plies our understanding with all the materials of think- 
ing. These two are the fountains of knowledge from 
whence all the ideas we have or can naturally have, do 
spring." Perception is used by Locke in a broader sense 
than what it is understood at present, as he uses per- 
ception for sensory experience as well as for the intro- 
spection of higher mental processes. He tells us, how- 
ever, that in either case "the mind has a power to revive 
perceptions which it has once had, with this additional 
perception annexed to them that it has had them be- 
fore." Locke evidently entertains the view that sensa- 
tions can be revived as original sensory experience and 
that the revived ideas do not differ, except for the addi- 
tion of pastness, from the original ideas derived from 
the great source of sensation. 

When we pass to Hartley and Hume the identifica- 
tion of sensation and idea is set forth with great ex- 
plicitness. In fact, it is taken as the fundamental prin- 



Theories of Perception 125 

ciple of their psychological systems. Thus Hartley 
postulates in his eighth proposition that "Sensations by 
being often repeated leave certain vestiges, types or 
images of themselves which may be called simple ideas 
of sensation," and correspondingly we have "sen- 
sory vibrations, by being often repeated, beget in the me- 
dullary substance of the brain a disposition to diminu- 
tive vibrations which may be called vibratiuncles and 
miniatures corresponding to themselves respectively." 
The vibratiuncle is the physical substratum of what we 
experience as an idea, and is a copy of the original 
vibration. The vibratiuncle is a weakened vibration, 
and the idea is a weakened sensation. 

Hume does not burden himself with Hartley's vibra- 
tions and vibratiuncles, but still at the basis of his sys- 
tem we find the same fallacious psychological principle. 
"All our ideas" he says "are copies of our lively percep- 
tions or impressions." In other words, our sensations 
are lively impressions, while the ideas are only weakened 
perceptions, — the idea differs from the sensation only 
in intensity. There is no qualitative difference between 
sensation and idea. Ideas belong to sensory processes 
and do not differ as such from sensations. This view 
has since become the heritage of current psychological 
theories. 



CHAPTER XX 

THE STRUCTURE AND FUNCTION OF THE PERCEPT 

AS in many other sciences, especially the ones 
of the purely mental variety, a good deal in 
psychology is traditional such for instance 
are the tripartite and bipartite division of the 
mind or the various classifications of the mental activi- 
ties. Of course, classifications as well as theories have 
their important function in science, but they should not 
be permitted to become a bed of Procrustes to the 
guests whom they shelter. 

It may sometimes be well to disregard established 
principles, classifications and time-honored traditions 
and study the facts from a somewhat different stand- 
point. We may then possibly see the facts in a new 
light and realize aspects and connections which are hid- 
den from the customary view of the phenomena. 

Suppose we take a mental cross-section of a moment 
of perceptual consciousness in the very act of formation 
of a percept. The whole perceptual moment may be 
said to be spread out before our mental gaze. We find 
sensory elements of a relatively intense character. Cer- 
tain sensory elements stand out first and foremost in 
consciousness, they are the very first to arrest the mental 
gaze and keep it steadily fixed on themselves. In the 
same view, however, we can also discern other elements, 
not so prominent, though equally sensory which, on ac- 
count of their lack of prominence, appear to be of a 
subordinate character. The whole tone of the percept 

126 



The Structure and Function of the Percept 127 

is given by the qualitative aspect of the prominent ele- 
ments which seem to guide and form the organization 
of the percept. 

The general plan of the structure of the percept may 
be compared to that of the cell. A close examination of 
the cell reveals the presence of a central element, of a 
nucleus surrounded by cytoplasm with its meshwork, the 
cyto-reticulum. The nucleus forms the central and im- 
portant structure having the functions of assimilation 
and reproduction. The nucleus and cytoplasm, how- 
ever, are intimately related; the modification of one 
affects the other. Both nuclear and cytoplasmic struc- 
tures form one organized whole, one living cell. Sim- 
ilarly in the percept we find a group of sensory elements 
which constitute the nucleus, and a mass of other sensory 
elements, possibly the main mass, forming the tissue 
of the percept. The nuclear elements are more intense 
and appear to be predominant in the total mental state, 
— both however are intimately connected and go to 
form the living tissue of the percept. 

The nuclear elements of the percept have the 
lead and seem to possess the organizing, the fer- 
menting power to assimilate the mass of subordin- 
ate elements and have them transformed into one 
unified organic whole. The slightest modification 
in the structure and function of the nuclear ele- 
ments brings about a change in the total cytoplasmic 
mass of the percept, giving rise to a different structure, 
to a different percept; and again, modifications of the 
cytoplasmic mass, so to say, affect the formation of the 
nuclear elements often resulting in a different percept. 
It requires however quite a considerable change in the 
subordinate elements to bring about a change in the per- 



128 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

cept; while the slightest modification of the nuclear 
elements, whether in quality or intensity, often brings 
about a fundamental transformation of the percept. 
The nuclear elements may be regarded as the sen- 
sitive, as the vital point of the perceptual system. We 
cannot displace nor can we modify the nucleus of the 
percept without profoundly modifying or even com- 
pletely destroying the life existence of the percept. 

We may point out here an important aspect of the 
percept, an aspect which has been neglected by the 
older psychologists, but which is now being more and 
more emphasized by the younger psychologists who lay 
more stress on the functional and biological side of 
mental life. Like the life of all organized beings, the 
life existence of the psychic state is for some reaction, 
for some adjustments to the conditions of the external 
environment. In the struggle for existence the animal 
organism must on pain of death be adjusted to the ob- 
jects of its external world. Now the central, nuclear, 
sensory elements awakened by external excitations give 
the cue for the reaction ; they form the sensitive organ- 
ization for the release of motor energy in definite direc- 
tions; they signify a definite object to which correspond 
definite motor tendencies with final reactions of adjust- 
ment. To the mouse the cat is not an object of contem- 
plation or an object of observation, on account of its 
sensory effects, — the cat is an object to run away from. 
To the dog a cat is not an object of beauty, but some- 
thing to be run after. The sensory stimulations coming 
from the 'that,' which is mouse, is for the cat something 
to be on the alert, to jump after and to attack. 

The lower we descend in the scale of animal life, the 
more prominent do the motor reactions become. Where 



The Structure and Function of the Percept 129 

life is predominantly of the instinctive type, the motor 
side of consciousness is more apparent. The fly at- 
tracted by the scent to deposit its eggs in decomposed 
meat; the wasp that strikes the caterpillar in definite 
places paralyzing its nervous system, thus preparing 
food for the coming larva ; the newborn infant starting 
to suck, when put to the breast — are good examples of 
motor reactions in response to sensory stimulations com- 
ing from external objects. A definite sensory stimulus 
is the trigger which releases a definite set of motor 
reactions. The fly, the bee is hardly conscious of the 
sensory characters of the honey; it is more likely that 
the sensory stimulations of the honey release the ap- 
propriate reaction of flying towards it. 

The bright colors of flowers developed in the course 
of natural selection for the fertilization of plants serve 
the same purpose; they awaken definite responses use- 
ful both to plant and insect, as it is hardly probable that 
the insects are primarily attracted by the beautiful color- 
ing of the flowers. The visual stimuli awakening defi- 
nite sensory elements may be regarded as central and 
nuclear which in turn serve as a highly sensitive trigger 
to release definite systems of motor reactions. The effect 
is somewhat similar to that of the moth attracted by the 
flame, — the flame acts as a peripheral stimulus giving 
rise to sensory elements which form the sensitive trigger 
in the release of the reaction of circling around the 
flame, in spite of the harmful results. The moth reacts 
to bright objects in going towards them, but this partic- 
ular bright object, the flame, has not been provided for 
in the motor adjustments of the moth, hence the lack of 
adaptation, the going to the danger, instead of flying 
from it. 



130 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

So apparently insignificant is the sensory side and so 
predominant is the motor side with its almost mechan- 
ically fatal reactions, that some physiologists put the 
whole mechanism of excitation and reaction in the lower 
animals under the category of tropisms, which may be 
positive or negative, according as the animal goes to or 
from the particular stimulus. The sensory side is de- 
nied, the whole affair is regarded as a delicate chemical 
reaction, such as the chemotaxis of leucocytes in the phe- 
nomena of phagocytosis observed in inflammations and 
bacterial invasions, or what is still simpler as the phe- 
nomena of heliotropism observed in the case of plants. 
This purely mechanical or chemico-physiological view 
may be crude and far fetched in the case of lower ani- 
mals, but it brings out strongly the predominance of the 
motor reaction in response to definite sensory excitations. 

The motor attitude of the animal towards the excita- 
tions of the external environment constitutes the pre- 
dominant part of its objective world. The reactions 
with their sensori-motor effects are part and parcel of 
the total percept. Sensori-motor life gives reality to the 
world of objects. The spatial, the resistant, the ma- 
terial character of objects depends on our motor reac- 
tions which give content and reality to the world of 
things. Activity gives the sense of 'physical' reality, 
the sense of material actuality, or of what is regarded 
as 'the really real.' In other words, sensori-motor re- 
actions with consequent kinesthetic sensations may be 
regarded as constituting the very essence of the real, 
external, material world, — the world of external, mate- 
rial objects. 

The percept as we have pointed out forms one or- 
ganic whole, the constituent elements are firmly inte- 



The Structure and Function of the Percept 131 

grated into one living organization. In other words, 
just as the organism is not simply an integrated com- 
pound of cells, tissues and organs, but all those lower 
units go to form the higher living unit, the life of the 
organism as a whole, so we may say that the sensory 
elements are not the same as the percept, they are ana- 
tomically found, on the autopsy of the percept, — the sen- 
sory elements are the lower units that help to form the 
higher unit, the living percept. From a scientific stand- 
point, as the result of psychological dissection, the sen- 
sory elements going to make up the psychic compound, 
the percept, may be regarded as different from the total 
synthesis with its characteristic living activity and its 
peculiar form of perceptual consciousness. 

The constituent elements of the percept are not of 
the same definiteness and intensity. The central nuclear 
elements stand out more distinct, more definite, and con- 
sciousness lights them up with more power and inten- 
sity. They are like the mountain peaks — when glade 
and valley and mountain side are still immersed in dark- 
ness, the rising sun greets the mountain tops and plays 
and caresses them with its rays; when again the shades 
of evening begin to flit and gather over vale, ravine, and 
gulch, the rays of the setting sun long linger on the 
peaks taking of them their last farewell. The central 
nuclear elements are in the focus of consciousness, — 
they are the first to be met by the glance of the mental 
eye and are the very last to be left by it. Consciousness 
plays with its searchlight on the nuclear sensory ele- 
ments. The central nuclear elements are intense, dis- 
tinct, and definite, while the subordinate elements are 
of far less intensity, are often quite indistinct, are, so 
to say, on the fringe of consciousness; in fact, may even 



132 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

be entirely subconscious. And still indefinite, indistinct, 
and submerged as those subordinate elements are, they 
form the main content of the percept, giving it the 
fullness of reality. 

The nuclear elements form the cue of the total re- 
action, thus standing for the particular object, forming 
the reality of the percept for the organism. No won- 
der then that the cue, though it may be the smallest por- 
tion of the percept, none the less forms for the organ- 
ism the most vital, the most significant as well as the 
most constant part of the percept. The attitude, the 
total reaction of the organism depends on the slightest 
difference in the cue, on the slightest change of the 
nuclear elements, since the apparently slight modifica- 
tion may often prove of great significance to the life 
existence of the organism, — it may be a matter of life 
and death. The nuclear elements constitute the signal, 
the sensitive trigger for the release of definite reactions 
towards the changes of external objects. Hence the 
nuclear elements come to signify, in fact, to constitute 
the essence of the percept. 

A change of the subordinate elements of the percept 
does not matter so much as the slightest modification in 
the quality or even in the intensity of the signal. This, 
of course, does not mean that the subordinate sensory 
elements are not psychologically and biologically of the 
utmost consequence to the organism, but they are not of 
that immediate importance as the focal, nuclear ele- 
ments appear to the consciousness of the organism. The 
nuclear elements, as signal, focus the interest of the ani- 
mal. We can well realize their vital importance, if we 
consider that the nuclear elements are the flag which in- 
dicates friend or enemy, war or peace, life or death. 



The Structure and Function of the Percept 133 

If we regard the percept statically, we may describe 
it figuratively as a psychic compound, the union of the 
elements having somewhat the character of a chemical 
combination. A new compound is formed possessing 
qualities of its own, different from those of the con- 
stituent elements. The sensory characteristics are pro- 
foundly modified in the synthesis, so much so that they 
cannot be directly discerned and can only be discovered 
by patient study. The elements do not exist freely, 
they are bound up in one indissoluble union of the per- 
cept. It seems, as if different qualitative states arise in 
the union, the qualities of the elements appearing, as if 
transformed by the effected synthesis. 

The percept forms a new compound in which the 
component elements are disguised and transformed by 
the qualitative aspect of the central elements. The 
subordinate elements become adapted to the active 
nucleus, and come out in the compound with sensory 
characteristics foreign to their nature. In the process 
of synthesis the subordinate elements become trans- 
muted and assume the sensory characteristics of the 
nucleus. To isolate the various elements out of the 
synthetized percept, the central elements must be shift- 
ed, — the subordinate elements must be made focal, giv- 
ing rise to new percepts, but at the same time making it 
possible to pass in review the various elements. In 
other words, the elements become revealed in propor- 
tion as we make of them signals, in proportion as they 
become significant of the total percept with its sensori- 
motor reactions. 

The nuclear elements are the most pronounced, the 
most prominent, as far as saturation of sensory quality 
is concerned. They have so much of their peculiar 



134 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

sensory quality that they diffuse it into the other ele- 
ments, — the subordinate elements appear under the 
sensory form of the nucleus; they become assimilated 
by the nucleus, and are saturated with its sensory color- 
ing. This holds true not only in regard to saturation, 
but also in regard to sensory brightness. The central 
elements possess a sensory brightness far in excess of 
other elements, and hence they shed their sensory light 
on the more obscure, though no less important sensory 
elements. What however they illumine is not so much 
the peculiar sensory characteristics of those elements, 
but their own coloring with which they have saturated 
the total percept. 

The force of the central elements lies specially in the 
emotional or affective tone with which they are pervad- 
ed. They arouse an attitude towards the external world 
in general and to the special object in particular; Taine 
would call it a tendency. The individual is stimulated 
by those nuclear elements; his whole attention is going 
out in direction to the object that has excited them. 
The whole organism is invaded by the subtle influence of 
the nucleus giving rise to definite sensori-motor reac- 
tions, intensifying the affective state which permeates 
the perceptual consciousness. 

The affective state of the percept is not always 
obvious in cases of fleeting percepts, but it becomes 
manifest, when the central elements become temporarily 
fixed, the stress and strain of consciousness tending in 
one direction. The very changes occurring in the flicker- 
ing intensity of the nuclear elements tend to sharpen the 
situation, to enliven the interest, strain the attention, and 
be all agog so to say. The cat getting a glimpse of a 
mouse, or the dog catching sight of the cat may be taken 



The Structure and Function of the Percept 135 

as good illustrations of the affective states present in 
perceptual consciousness. The nuclear elements are the 
ones that are specially charged with affective or emo- 
tional states. 

Biologically regarded, we can well see the importance 
of the central nuclear elements, the necessity of their 
standing out in consciousness as more prominent and 
more intense than the rest of the sensory elements. Con- 
stituting the signal, they come to be the most significant 
part of the percept, for they announce what 'that' is, 
they present the object, friend or foe, something to wel- 
come or something to flee from. The central nuclear ele- 
ments thus come to present objective reality, they safe- 
guard the individual, they are the safety as well as the 
danger signal. The more delicately differentiated those 
safety-danger signals are, the more protected the indi- 
vidual is in the struggle for existence. The more sen- 
sitive the individual becomes to the least difference of 
the nuclear elements, the better adjusted will he be to 
the conditions of the external environment, and the bet- 
ter will be his chances in the process of survival of the 
fittest. 

This brings us to the purposiveness of the percept. 
One of the important characteristics of the biological 
process is the final cause, the purpose formed by natural 
selection out of chance variations, and leading to the 
preservation of that process, to the preservation of the 
individual. We should therefore expect that in the 
psychic process which is the most highly developed bio- 
logical process, purposiveness, formed out of psychic 
chance variations, will be one of the most important 
traits. In the course of phylogenetic and ontogenetic 
evolution some sensory elements, the ones to which 



136 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

the organism is more sensitive, will be selected and 
become the indicators of the total percept, they will 
become the index, or better to say the pain-pleasure flag, 
the safety-danger signal. The central elements will 
thus be the most prominent, the most intense for that 
particular state of perceptual consciousness. The na- 
ture and character of the elements will vary with the 
organization of the species and the individual. The 
dog will become more sensitive to variations of his ol- 
factory sensations, while man will show marked sensi- 
tivity towards delicate differences of his visual sensory 
elements. 

The great sensitivity of the nuclear elements is sig- 
nificant, in so far as they lead to better adaptation and to 
more successful reactions. It is not of any consequence 
for the cow to gaze at the stars, for the pig to observe 
the phases of the moon, but it is a matter of importance 
for them to perceive any signs of food, or the approach 
of a beast of prey. The heavenly bodies are non-exis- 
tent for the brutes, because of lack of all reactions of 
adaptation, while food and predatory beasts are easily 
detected, because of the vital reactions bound up in 
the elements of the percept of which the nuclear ele- 
ments form the signal. It is on account of the vital 
reactions that the perceptual nucleus plays such a prom- 
inent part and takes the lead of all the other elements. 
As I have pointed out in a former work: "The 
psychic state is for some reaction and that sensory ele- 
ment which gives the cue for the formation of the psy- 
chomotor elements, leading to some given reaction is, 
for the time being, the center, the nucleus of the total 
state." 



CHAPTER XXI 

PRIMARY AND SECONDARY SENSORY ELEMENTS 

IF we inspect the percept more closely, we find that 
there is some important difference in the character 
of the various constituent sensory elements. The 
central elements forming the nucleus of the per- 
cept are given directly by the sense-organ stimulated 
by its appropriate sensory stimuli, while the subordinate 
sensory elements are given indirectly, — they cannot be 
traced to appropriate sensory stimuli exciting those par- 
ticular sense-organs on the activity of which those sub- 
ordinate elements depend for their manifestation. In 
perceiving the lump of ice I can see the color, the size, 
the volume, the smoothness, the transparency, the dis- 
tance, and even the weight and coldness. Now what 
I can see directly is only the color, transparency, size, 
as given immediately by the stimulated sense-organ, by 
the visual sensations and image on the retina. Whence 
then come the rest of the sensory elements so distinctly 
experienced? They are not memory elements, — they 
have the same sensory characters as the elements given 
by the direct impression of the sense-organs. It is not 
that on perceiving a certain transparent object we re- 
member its volume, its distance, its smoothness, its re- 
sistance, we perceive all that in sensory terms. They 
are not images, ideas, or representations — they are sen- 
sations. The central sensory elements may be termed 
direct or primary, while the subordinate elements may 
be termed indirect or secondary. The percept then may 

137 



138 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

be regarded as consisting of two classes of elements of 
sensations, the primary and secondary sensory ele- 
ments.* 

The secondary sensory elements are not images, nor 
ideas, nor representations, different terms employed for 
the same state by various writers, the secondary ele- 
ments of the percept are essentially sensations. Now 
sensations are qualitatively different from images, ideas 
or representations. The image of a light does not 
shine, the idea of a voice does not sound, and the rep- 
resentation of a perfume does not smell. A sensation, 
or presentation as it is sometimes termed, differs from 
an image or representation qualitatively, fundamentally. 
The sensation or presentation is given as immediate ex- 
perience, while the image, the representation is essen- 
tially mediate, it is a mental substitute for the immedi- 
ate experience of the sensation. The idea or image 
bears the same relation to the sensation as a photograph 
bears to the original, or rather as a symbol to the thing 
it represents. Ideas, images, representations substitute, 
represent sensations, but they are not sensations. A 
sensory process is fundamentally different. A sensation 
is not an intense idea, nor is an idea a weak sensation. 
Ideas differ far more qualitatively from sensations than 
visual sensations, for instance, differ from olfactory sen- 
sations. There is not a particle of evidence to sub- 
stantiate the view that ideas or images are copies of sen- 
sations in the sense of being weak sensations or 'centrally 
excited sensations.' There is nothing of the sensory in the 



*It may be well here to point out that the doctrine of primary 
and secondary sensory elements advanced by me has nothing in 
common with the primary and secondary qualities of the older 
psychologists. 



Primary and Secondary Sensory Elements 139 

idea. The weakest sensation cannot compare with the 
most vivid representation. 

The laboratory experiments on that subject 
(Miinsterberg and Kiilpe) are inconclusive as they 
either deal with incompletely perceived impressions, 
or with minimal sensations. In either case the per- 
cept is incomplete and uncertain. Kiilpe himself is 
forced to admit that ideas or 'centrally excited sensa- 
tions' as he terms them "cannot be regarded as simple 
revivals of peripherally excited contents, if only for the 
reason, that their remaining attributes are very rarely 
indeed identical with those of perception." He then 
goes on making a fatal admission: "The most striking 
evidence of disparity is perhaps afforded by intensity. 
It is only in special cases that centrally ex- 
cited sensations can rise from their accustomed faint- 
ness to the vividness of sense perception. We then speak 
of them as hallucinations (?) ; and they enter into a 
disastrous competition with the real material of per- 
ception, completely transcending the boundary line 
which so usefully divides it from the material of imag- 
ination." Kiilpe admits that there is no intensity to the 
image, that there is no variation in 'intensity' of images, 
an 'attribute' characteristic of percepts. Psychologic- 
ally regarded, this in itself shows the qualitative differ- 
ence between image and percept. 

In spite of the fact that Bergson is interested in psy- 
chology from a purely metaphysical standpoint, he nev- 
ertheless has some excellent remarks on memory and on 
the qualitative difference between image and percept. 
Although he is wrong in supposing that the image may 
be prolonged and projected into perceptual conscious- 
ness, he none the less emphasizes strongly the qualita- 



140 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

tive difference of the two. If I understand him aright 
he is opposed to the view of identification of memory 
images with sensations. A memory image is not a weak- 
ened sensation. "The absurdity" says Bergson "be- 
comes patent when the argument is inverted (although 
this ought to be legitimate on the hypothesis adopted), 
that is to say, when the intensity of the sensation is de- 
creased instead of the intensity of the pure memory be- 
ing increased. For, if the two states (memory-image 
and sensation) differ merely in degree, there should be a 
given moment at which the sensation changed into a 
memory. If the memory of an acute pain, for instance, 
is but a weak pain, inversely an intense pain which I feel 
will end, as it grows less, by being an acute pain re- 
membered. . . . Never will this weak state ap- 
pear to me to be the memory of a strong state. Mem- 
ory is something quite different." 

Ideational and perceptual processes cannot be identi- 
fied. The two are qualitatively different: the sensation 
has intensity, the image lacks it. We may point out 
the main differences of sensation and image. (a) A 
sensation has intensity, an image totally lacks it. (b) 
An image is a reproduction or rather a representation, 
a symbol of a sensation, but no sensation represents 
another; a sensation, unlike an image, is not mediate, 
but immediate experience, (c) A sensation bears the 
mark of externality, an image lacks it. Finally (d) a 
sensation cannot be called up at will, while an image 
is independent of peripheral stimulations of external ob- 
jects and is usually under the control of the will. No 
sensation differs so much from another as the image dif- 
fers from its corresponding sensation. 

Sensory elements and their synthesis, the percept, 



Primary and Secondary Sensory Elements 141 

have motor tendencies, while the image or idea has not 
any motor tendencies. The reason why every image 
and idea has been made ideo-motor is because images or 
representations have been regarded as sensory in char- 
acter, as weakened sensations, as 'sensationalettes' so to 
say. Bergson clearly sees the qualitative difference of 
the two; he insists on the non-motor character of the 
image in contradistinction to the strongly motor char- 
acter of the sensation and the percept. Recently Thorn- 
dike laid great stress on the psychological fallacy of 
regarding images and ideas as motor in character. This 
fallacy is essentially due to the current identification of 
presentative and representative elements. 

To refer as Kulpe does to a hallucination as an inten- 
sified image is to reason in a circle and at the same time 
to be in sad contradiction with facts. A hallucination 
may be regarded as a fallacious percept, but it is not 
on that account an image; a hallucination is a percept 
and is essentially sensory in character. The fact of a per- 
cept being fallacious does not in the least imply that it 
is 'imaginary' and not sensory. 

The ambiguity of the word 'imaginary' has not a 
little contributed to the psychological fallacy helping 
towards the confusion of image and sensation. 'Imagin- 
ary' is used in the common sense meaning not corre- 
sponding to any external reality, or in the psychological 
sense of consisting of those internal events or processes 
known as images or ideas. Now 'imaginary' used in 
the sense of lack of an external object by no means im- 
plies the psychological sense of consisting of images. A 
hallucination is commonly said to be imaginary in the 
sense of not having an objective reality, but we have to 
prove yet that it consists of images. 



142 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

The theories of illusions, hallucinations as well as 
of dream states and hypnotic hallucinations are viti- 
ated by that fundamental psychological fallacy. As 
a matter of fact hallucinations are not made up 
of images, but of sensory elements; while on the 
contrary hypnotic hallucinations are not made up of 
sensory elements, but of images. Hallucinations are not 
due to 'images' but to actual sensations. Psycho- 
logically regarded, hallucinations do not differ in their 
make-up from ordinary percepts. Ideas and images are 
not possessed of magic virtues, and with all the fancy 
work about them, they cannot display sensory quali- 
ties. The image or idea is that bloodless, shadowy, 
fluttering affair which can no more attain the life of a 
sensation than a written letter can attain the power of 
sound. Had it been otherwise the world would have 
been a large asylum for images to play their pranks in. 

We may quote Stout as one of the few psychologists 
who seem not to accept the current psychological doc- 
trine. In his 'Analytic Psychology' he tells us 'that 
complex perception does not consist in a given impres- 
sion reviving a cluster of faint images of previous im- 
pressions.' And again "impressional revival does not 
in the least countenance the theory that ideas are merely 
faint revivals of impressions. On the contrary, it tends 
strongly in the opposite direction. It shows that a 
revived impression is itself an impression, and not an 
idea." In his 'Manual of Psychology' he says 'that at 
bottom the distinction between image and percept is 
based on a difference of quality.' And again, "per- 
cepts and images possess a relative independence. This 
can be accounted for, if we suppose that the nervous 
tracts excited in perceptual process are not wholly coin- 



Primary and Secondary Sensory Elements 143 

cident with those excited in ideational process." 

The elements of the percept are not ideational, not 
imaginary, they are essentially sensory. The perceptual 
elements are synthetized into one percept. To take our 
stock example, the ice. The lump of ice is experienced 
as one object with many qualities each of which fur- 
nishes respectively its sensory quota towards the forma- 
tion of the whole of the perceptual experience. We see, 
we perceive the hard, heavy, smooth, resistant body of 
ice, — all the elements have alike the intensity of sensa* 
tion. The hardness, the smoothness, the bodily resist- 
ance are perceived by the visual sense and are visual, 
but as such they, of course, differ from the sensations ex- 
perienced by their appropriate sense organs, as when 
for instance the same sensations are given by touch or 
by muscular and kinesthetic sensations. Those muscu- 
lar and tacto-motor sensations appearing as visual are 
not memory-images, but they are actual sensations, they 
are secondary sensations; they are secondary sensory 
elements which give the fullness of content to the per- 
cept, having visual sensory elements as its nucleus. Un- 
like memory-images, secondary perceptual elements 
have the immediacy of sensory experience. Remem- 
bered sensory qualities are not immediate experiences 
given in the object of perception. 

If we turn to pathology, we find that cases closely 
confirm our view. In certain mental diseases the pa- 
tient can perceive the various qualities, although he can- 
not represent them to himself. In other cases the pa- 
tient can clearly and vividly represent objects in all their 
details, but he cannot perceive the objects, when direct- 
ly confronted with them. Clinical cases, even if we 
exclude all facts from introspective study, clearly point 



144 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

to the qualitative difference of image and sensation, 
irrespective of the assumption of localization — they 
may be due to the function of different brain struc- 
tures, or to different processes of the same brain struc- 
tures. In the light of recent research it is more likely 
that the neuron structures underlying ideational pro- 
cesses differ from those subserving sensory processes. 
Whichever view however we entertain in regard to the 
anatomical structures all the facts go to prove that 
image and sensation are qualitatively different psychic 
events. 

The percept is not ideational, but sensory. There 
are no memory-images in perceptual consciousness, al- 
though the latter may be closely associated with idea- 
tional processes. Such ideas, however, are on the fringe 
of the perceptual consciousness and do not constitute the 
essence of the percept. The percept consists of sensory 
elements, primary and secondary. The primary ele- 
ments are initiated directly by incoming peripheral stim- 
ulations, while the secondary sensory elements are 
brought about indirectly, through the mediacy of the 
primary elements, the secondary elements themselves 
being really derived from sense-organs others than the 
ones directly stimulated by the peripheral excitation. 

If the percept is visual, and V stands for the visual 
physiological processes, A for the auditory, O for the 
olfactory, M muscular, K kinesthetic, T for tactual 
physiological processes; then let Vi, Mi, 0* t Ki, 
Ti stand for the primary sensory elements; and let 
V*, O2, Mi, Kz, T* stand for the secondary sensory ele- 
ments, then the total percept may be represented by the 
formula FiOiM&T*. Since all the other elements ap- 
pear in the visual percept under the visual aspect, we 



Primary and Secondary Sensory Elements 145 
may represent the percept by the formula : V^M^O^ 

The secondary sensory elements, though forming 
the main content of the percept, are apparently of 
a visual nature, and still they really belong to qualita- 
tively different realms of sensations. This clearly re- 
veals their origin and nature : the secondary sensory 
elements are not visual, but they become so by being 
initiated through the visual sense. In other words, sec- 
ondary sensory elements are not peripherally initiated. 
Are they then centrally excited sensations? No. They 
can only be induced by an external stimulus. But that 
external stimulus must act indirectly, through another 
sense-organ. 



CHAPTER XXII 

SECONDARY SENSORY ELEMENTS AND HALLUCINATORY 
PERCEPTION 

IN stimulating a sense-organ we not only get sen- 
sory elements characteristic of that particular sense, 
but also sensory elements belonging to other sense- 
organs which have not been stimulated. What 
really takes place is this: the external excitation acting 
on a particular sense-organ produces its appropriate sen- 
sations, but the peripheral physiological process diffuses 
or rather to say gets irradiated along other neurons of 
other sense structures, awakening their appropriate sen- 
sations. Such sensations, not being directly but indi- 
rectly peripherally initiated should be regarded as sec- 
ondary sensations. 

The phenomena of secondary sensations are well 
known in psychological literature. Some psychologists 
following the general fallacy of confusing image and 
sensation describe vivid images succeeding sensations 
under the category of secondary sensations. Barring 
such confusion we may say that the pure phenomena of 
secondary sensations are essentially sensory in character. 
When a sensation due to the stimulation of a periph- 
eral sense-organ, instead of being followed by a train 
of association of ideas is followed by another sensa- 
tion belonging to the domain of another sense-organ, 
the phenomenon is known as that of synesthesia or of 
secondary sensations. 

One image or representation relating to a sensation 

146 



Secondary Sensory Elements and Perception 147 

of one sense-organ may be associated and bring in its 
train of associations any other image relating to any 
other sensation of any other sense-organ. The series 
of ideas or images is a reproduction of stimulated 
sense-organs with their accompanying sensations, the 
ideas running parallel to the original psycho-physiolog- 
ical processes, somewhat on the Spinozistic principle 
of 'Ordo et connexio idearum idem est ac ordo et con- 
nexio rerum.' And again in other cases, when not re- 
producing a previous series of sensory experience, the 
series of associated images may be more irregular and 
apparently capricious — a process usually described as 
the work of fancy, or imagination. A sensation or 
image then may be followed by any series of images 
without the intermediacy of external excitations and 
peripheral physiological processes. A sensation, how- 
ever, cannot be followed by a series of sensations with- 
out the intermediacy of external stimulations. A sen- 
sation can only be initiated by its own appropriate stim- 
ulus and by its own specialized peripheral physiological 
processes. The smell of a rose does not by simple as- 
sociation give rise to a series of sensations of touring in 
an automobile, nor does the eating of beefsteak give rise, 
through association, to the hearing of a symphony. In 
other words, there is an internal association of images or 
ideas, but there is not an internal association of sensa- 
tions. Images once born can be reproduced endlessly 
and at will, sensations die almost immediately after they 
are born and must be renewed every time under the 
same conditions of external stimulations. Briefly stated, 
there is memory for images, but not for sensations. Sen- 
sations are independent, images are interconnected. 
If we represent sensations by A, B, C, D and sym- 



148 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

bolize images by a, b, c, d, the A, B, C, D have no 
relations to one another, but each one bears a definite 
relation to each corresponding image, A to a, B to b, C 
to c, D to d, and so with the rest of the series. Sensa- 
tion A will arouse image a which in turn may arouse 
the whole train of images, b, c, d, but A cannot give rise 
to any of the sensations B, C, D. The image series 
a, b, c } d can be reproduced at will, in fact after a series 
of repetition the whole chain of links may rattle off 
against will, but nothing of the kind occurs in the case 
of sensations. Sensations do not form links in a chain 
which becomes automatic after many reproductions. 
Repetition of sensations does not form associated series; 
sensations maintain their independence. 

The difference between image and sensation in re- 
spect to association is, psychologically regarded, appar- 
ently flawless. Unfortunately as it is usually the case 
with flawless generalizations and descriptions of phe- 
nomena observed under normal conditions, there is an 
ungracious 'abnormal' that refuses to fall into line. 
There are cases apparently abnormal from the psycho- 
logical standpoint, cases which refuse to be gathered 
into the normal psychological fold; these cases seem to 
run counter to all normal psychological introspection. 
The sensations seem to run riot, — instead of being 
linked with their respective images they really call up 
associated sensations ; these are the so-called sound-phot- 
isms or light-phonisms, and similar odd combinations. 
It is true the sensations are rather awkwardly associ- 
ated. One sensation always calls forth only a particu- 
lar sensation and no other one, and besides the called 
forth sensation does not belong qualitatively to the same 
domain with the one that has initiated it. It is also 



Secondary Sensory Elements and Perception 149 

true that the sensations show their lack of sociable char- 
acter by not entering into any association with any other 
sensation, and that, unlike images, no associative series 
can possibly be formed. Still the fact remains that a 
sensation can and does call forth another sensation. Evi- 
dently sensations can enter into associative bonds. 

Such psychic states appear uncanny and are regarded 
as abnormal. The phenomena are regarded as freaks 
belonging to the domain of pathology. Now curiously 
enough our study reveals the fact that what has been re- 
garded as the pathological and exceptional turns out to 
be the ordinary and the normal. The stone which the 
builders neglected has become the corner stone. The 
exception has turned out to be the rule. Far from be- 
ing the case that secondary sensations are rare and ab- 
normal, they are quite common, since they constitute 
the very flesh and blood of the percept. Secondary sen- 
sations constitute the texture of the percept. The rea- 
son why they appear so strange is just because they are 
so common and so familiar. 

The secondary sensation, when appearing alone out 
of its perceptual complex, cannot be recognized as the 
old familiar attendant belonging to the indissoluble 
retinue of the humdrum percept. Dissociated from its 
perceptual sphere the secondary sensation appears 
ghostly, hallucinatory. As a matter of fact the second- 
ary sensation, hallucinatory and spooky as its manifesta- 
tions are, constitutes part and parcel of perceptual ex- 
perience. In fact, the main content of the percept con- 
sists of hallucinatory secondary sensations. Percepts and 
hallucinations are of the same grain. A percept is a 
hallucination with the primary nuclear sensory elements 
present, a hallucination is a 'real' percept with the pri- 



150 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

mary sensory elements absent. 

When secondary sensory elements become dissociated 
from the perceptual synthesis with the primary sensory 
elements, the elements, thus dissociated, not being re- 
lated to any peripheral physiological process of their ap- 
propriate sense-organ, are regarded as central phe- 
nomena, as secondary sensations which are described 
as unusual, abnormal events of mental life. What, 
however, is abnormal is not the secondary sensation 
per se, but the fact of its dissociation. A secondary sen- 
sory element dissociated from its perceptual system be- 
comes manifested as a secondary sensation. 

Secondary sensations are free secondary sensory ele- 
ments, dissociated from the perceptual aggregate into 
the synthetic unity of which they enter as important 
components forming the organic whole of the percept. 
When appearing isolated, secondary sensations are the 
simplest form of hallucinations which become more and 
more complex as the secondary sensory elements, dis- 
sociated from the primary elements, become manifested 
in complex systems. Hallucinations are systems of sec- 
ondary sensations or of secondary sensory elements. 

Sensory elements are, as a rule, not free, they usually 
appear as perceptual compounds, and this holds specially 
true of secondary sensory elements. When, therefore, 
dissociated from their perceptual compounds, they ap- 
pear as ghosts of the 'real' percept, as hallucinations. To 
quote from a previous work of mine: "The integra- 
tion of the groups and especially of the secondary pre- 
sentative groups is not of that unmodifiable organic 
character. Around a nucleus formed by a group, or 
combinations of groups of primary elements, groups of 
secondary sensory elements become aggregated, and the 



Secondary Sensory Elements and Perception 151 

total aggregate gives rise to a consolidated and unified 
system of groups, resulting in a percept. In perceiving 
the chair yonder only the visual sensations constitute 
the true sensory groups that form the nucleus of the 
percept. The other psychic groups that are crystallized 
round the percept, such as weight, resistance, volume, 
size, shape, distance are really visuo-tacto motor groups; 
they are largely tacto-muscular groups tinged by the 
sensory quality of the nucleus; they are tacto-motor 
groups sensorially visualized, seen indirectly. Though 
these secondary sensory groups are firmly integrated, 
still their integration is not of such a character as not 
to become disintegrated and rearranged into new sys- 
tems of groups. Such a disintegration is no doubt 
effected with difficulty, but it is by no means im- 
possible. 

Perceptual compounds, unlike sensory, admit of de- 
composition into elementary primary and secondary 
sensory groups. The component elementary sensory 
groups can be experienced separately under differ- 
ent conditions and circumstances. We can close our 
eyes and walk up to the object of perception, say the 
chair, and thus experience the free muscular sensations 
of distance, or we may push our hand against the chair 
and experience the sensation of resistance, or take the 
chair in the hand and experience the muscular sensations 
of weight and shape. The primary and secondary 
groups going to make up the percept can be isolated by 
withdrawing the organizing nuclear group of primary 
sensations, thus bringing about a disintegration of the 
particular aggregate. 

"If we inspect more closely this process of isolation, 
we find that the constituent secondary sensory groups 



152 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

are not really isolated, so as to stand out all by them- 
selves. What actually happens in this seeming process 
of isolation is simply the formation of a series of new 
perceptual aggregates in which the particular sensory 
groups that are isolated and specially brought out be- 
come the nuclei, the foci. For in the perceptual aggre- 
gate it is always the character of the nucleus that is 
specially brought out, and it is the nuclear aggregate 
that tinges with its sensory color all the other aggre- 
gates. To revert to our previous example, to the per- 
cept chair. In passing the finger over the chair, the 
touch may form the nucleus of the moment, but around 
this primary nuclear sensory group other secondary 
sensory groups, such as thermal and muscular sensory 
elements become organized to form the synthesis of the 
perceptual moment. If we try to find out the shape of 
the chair by a series of touches, we really form a series 
of percepts, the sensory nuclei of which are not visual, 
but tacto-muscular in their nature. A sensory group 
then cannot in reality appear in a purely isolated form." 
In other words, sensory elements appear in groups,* 
and this holds specially true of secondary sensory ele- 
ments or of secondary sensations. Secondary sensations, 
though present in every percept, rarely appear in iso- 
lation. The affinity of secondary sensory elements to 
run into compounds becoming synthetized with primary 
elements makes it difficult to observe them, except in the 
peculiar phenomena of synaesthesia and in the abnormal 
states of hallucination. 



*James lays stress on this fact of grouping of sensory elements : 
"All brain processes are such as give rise to what we may call 
Figured Consciousness. If parts are irradiated at all, they are 
frradiated in consistent systems and occasion thoughts of definite 
objects, not mere hodge-podge of elements." 



Secondary Sensory Elements and Perception 153 

If secondary sensations are simple hallucinations, 
hallucinations are compound secondary sensations. As 
we have pointed out a close examination of hallucina- 
tions shows them to be systems of secondary sensations 
dissociated from their primary nuclear elements. In 
states of dissociation a peripheral stimulation with its 
physiological process and concomitant primary sensory 
elements may become dissociated from systems of sec- 
ondary sensory elements which alone stand out in con- 
sciousness as hallucinations. A close examination re- 
veals the presence of some obscure pathological condi- 
tions which by irritation and by irradiation awaken sec- 
ondary sensory elements giving rise to full fledged hal- 
lucinations. 

In the cases of hallucinations investigated by me I 
have found pathological processes which gave rise to 
secondary sensations crystallized into hallucinations. 
Thus one of my cases suffered from auditory halluci- 
nations. The patient heard voices telling her all kinds 
of disagreeable things. She complained that the voices 
came not through the ear, but through a spot located 
over the Fallopian tubes. An examination of the ear 
showed nothing abnormal. Physical examination re- 
vealed nothing abnormal in any of the other sense or- 
gans. The Fallopian tubes, however, were very tender 
and painful to pressure. The patient suffered from 
an old chronic salpingitis. The hallucinations, which 
were of a sexual character, became more severe at reg- 
ular intervals coinciding with monthly periodicities. 

One case of mine suffered from visual hallucinations. 
He saw spirits, ghosts and visions of saints. When he 
travelled in a car, he could see little men with benevo- 
lent faces, and for some religious reason he regarded 



154 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

them as saints who came to his help. He could see 
them splitting the rocks and disappearing there, or 
sometimes the rocks split open and the saintly little men 
came to the surface. Occasionally apparitions of the 
dead visited him. The visions were never quiet, but 
always in motion, they did not stay long and rapidly 
disappeared, giving rise to new visions. An examina- 
tion of his special sense-organs showed nothing abnor- 
mal. The sense of touch, pressure and kinesthetic sen- 
sibility manifested peculiar abnormalities. The skin of 
the body was very sensitive and that of the scalp was 
extremely tender to touch. The patient could not bear 
any pressure of the scalp and was mostly bareheaded, 
though he was very sensitive to draughts and to changes 
of temperature. Occasionally he experienced a sense 
of formication all over the body, especially in the scalp 
and in the region of the neck, the muscles of which were 
extremely sensitive to pressure. Now when the head 
was inclined to one side or pressed hard or kept in a 
tense state for a couple of minutes at a stretch, he could 
see spirits floating in the air, he could see the little men 
with their saintly faces coming out of the ground and 
disappearing into it again. 

One case of functional psychosis, with epileptiform 
attacks presenting phenomena of dissociated states with 
distinct tendencies toward the formation of multiple per- 
sonality, suffered a good deal from auditory hallucina- 
tions. It will take too much space to give an account of 
the details of the different seizures and of the various 
dissociated states manifested by the patient. For our 
present purpose it is enough to refer to the hallucina- 
tions. The patient complained that she could hear 
voices talking to her, her mother and brothers commu- 



Secondary Sensory Elements and Perception 155 

nicating with her from a distance. An examination of 
the auditory apparatus proved it to be in excellent con- 
dition. In this case the phenomena of unconscious 
phonation were quite well developed, the patient was 
observed to move her lips and whisper — the whisper 
becoming sometimes quite loud so that many words 
which the patient referred to the voices of the mother 
and brothers were really uttered by the patient. An 
examination of the eye revealed the presence of an 
astigmatic condition and a limitation of the field of 
vision. When the patient was made to count or to read 
aloud or when absorbed in a conversation, the auditory 
hallucinations ceased. The auditory hallucinations con- 
siderably diminished, both in frequency and intensity, 
when the astigmatism was corrected by eye glasses. 

Similarly in another case the patient suffered from 
auditory hallucinations. Here the patient was observed 
talking to himself. This was so pronounced that now 
and then he himself became conscious of the fact that 
he was talking to himself. He describes this experience 
of automatic talk which seems to be uncontrollable and 
of which he is often unconscious by the term of 'auto- 
vocalization.' In this case the patient now and then 
can catch himself telling things to himself which he 
takes for the voices of other people as he is then con- 
scious of the hearing, but not of the utterance of the 
words and phrases. This, however, is not always the 
case; in fact in a good many cases where unconscious 
phonation is present, as, for instance, in the case of the 
patient with the epileptiform seizures described above, 
the patient is entirely unconscious of the fact of 'whis- 
pering.' When attention was drawn to the phenom- 
enon, the whisper and the hallucination disappeared. 



156 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

Another patient of mine suffers from auditory hal- 
lucinations. He hears people abusing him and calling 
him names. The hallucinations occur when he is awake, 
but they are frequent when he is on the point of falling 
asleep, or when he wakes up. He thinks, in fact he hears 
that people whisper about him. The voices are observed 
to increase in frequency and intensity with the presence 
of external noises, such as noises made in the hall, or 
sounds made by cars passing by. The patient was ob- 
served having subconscious or unconscious move- 
ments of lips, tongue and even of the jaws. When he 
hears the voices the subconscious movements increase so 
that they may be perceived at a distance. Even the 
nurse could not help perceiving the subconscious whis- 
pering made by the patient. When the patient looks 
through a printed or written page the subconscious whis- 
pering increases. The same is observed when the patient 
is very much interested in something or absorbed in 
deep thought. During such times he complains that he 
hears voices. With his mouth wide open and holding 
his tongue stationary, the unconscious whispering 
ceases and along with it the auditory hallucinations dis- 
appear. 

One of my cases, a lady of about sixty, suffered for 
about fourteen years from auditory and visual hallu- 
cinations. She complained that she was surrounded by 
ghosts of departed family members who did not leave 
her alone. The spirits talk to her, they give her advice 
which is often against her interests. Her departed hus- 
band and his brother are the chief leaders, the 'guides' 
so to say. They talk to her on all important occasions 
and try to guide her in life. The patient resents such 
interferences. When the voices became insistent she 



Secondary Sensory Elements and Perception 157 

also had visions of the spirits and could hear them talk 
to her, a proceeding which she always attempted to dis- 
courage, but she admitted that the voices and the spir- 
its had the best of her, and she was forced to follow 
their instructions. An examination of the patient 
revealed the fact that the hearing on the left side was 
rather defective, the tympanic membrane was thickened 
and there was present a chronic pathological process due 
to a former condition of middle ear disease. Any con- 
tinuous and prolonged irritation of the diseased ear 
started the voices, increased their intensity, and caused 
the manifestations of the visions. 

I may also refer to a patient under my care who suf- 
fered from auditory hallucinations and thought herself 
possessed by demons. From her ninth year she suffered 
at various intervals from those voices which sometimes 
told her unpleasant things. Along with the hallu- 
cinations she also had attacks of automatic speech. Now 
and then she simply heard voices and was not conscious 
of any involuntary speech, but occasionally the involun- 
tary utterance took such possession of her that she could 
not control it. She felt as if some other being got pos- 
session of her organs of speech. This frightened her 
even more than the hallucinations. She kept away from 
her friends fearing sudden attacks of involuntary speech. 
It appeared to the patient, as if some other beings made 
her talk against her will. She shunned society, because 
the other beings forced her to tell aloud what she 
thought of the people in whose company she was pres- 
ent. When she was not conscious of the forced speech, 
she often heard voices which she ascribed to the same 
demons. There was nothing of the delusion of pa- 
ranoia in it as she could not account for the involuntary 



158 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

speech and auditory hallucinations. The patient was 
of Irish descent, uneducated, though very intelligent. 
The explanation of 'demoniacal possession' was giv- 
en and maintained by her family in Ireland. She was 
glad to take my view of the phenomena which I tried 
to make plain to her, as much as it was possible under 
the circumstances. 

A quotation from her written account may be of in- 
terest: "When I was nine years old, one day, 
I remember, I sat down on a stone and sud- 
denly I heard a voice : 'If you live four or five years 
more, you will wish you had never grown up.' I 
thought it was strange, but soon forgot it and went to 
play again. I had no trouble until I was fourteen, when 
the voice changed and forced me to talk with my own 
voice. The voices would make me speak of things that 
in my own self I had no idea of doing and would not do 
for anything. About eight years ago I had a terrible 
fright after which I thought I talked with saints and 
angels and saw unusual things, I really saw them." We 
find here the presence of automatic speech, unconscious 
phonation with subconscious states resulting in dissocia- 
tions of secondary from primary sensory elements with 
the consequent formation of various forms of hallu- 
cinations. 

Observations and experiments incontestably prove 
that hallucinations are synthetized compounds of sec- 
ondary sensory elements, dissociated completely or in- 
completely from their primary elements. Normal and 
abnormal perceptive processes do not differ psychologic- 
ally as to their make-up, except in the relation of their 
primary and secondary sensory elements. Hallucina- 
tions are not central; they are essentially of peripheral 



Secondary Sensory Elements and Perception 159 

origin; they are induced by peripheral excitations giv- 
ing rise to peripheral physiological processes, awakening 
primary sensory elements which are subconscious or fall 
out entirely of the patient's consciousness, leaving the 
groups of secondary sensory elements to stand out as 
fully developed hallucinations. The hallucinatory sec- 
ondary sensory elements may be tinged with the qualita- 
tive aspect of the dissociated primary sensory elements; 
thus pathological processes in the auditory sense organ 
may give rise to voices; or morbid processes of the 
visual apparatus may give rise to visions. Quite often, 
however, the dissociation is so deep and extensive that 
the synthetized system of secondary sensory ^elements 
does not bear the least trace of the qualitative aspect 
of the primary sensory elements; thus a morbid condi- 
tion of the pharynx, for example, may give rise to an 
auditory and even to a visual hallucination. Whatever 
may be the qualitative character of the sensory com- 
pounds one thing stands out clear and distinct, and that 
is the fact that the percept, whether normal or ab- 
normal, does not consist of images, but of sensations, 
primary and secondary. 



CHAPTER XXIII 

THE ATTRIBUTES OF SENSORY ELEMENTS 

CONTRARY to the view maintained by many 
psychologists we have laid special stress on 
the fundamental qualitative difference between 
image and sensation. We shall not venture 
far from our facts, if we arrange images and sen- 
sations in two qualitatively different psychic series. 
Sensations can be ranged in a graduated series of 
intensities, while images or representations can be 
ranged in a graduated series of clearness and dis- 
tinctness, or of vividness, as it is sometimes described by 
some psychologists. I use the term vividness in the 
sense of clearness and distinctness and not in the sense 
of intensity as it is often used; even those psycholo- 
gists who do not use intensity and vividness indiscrim- 
inately ascribe both of them equally to sensation and 
image. 

Vividness and intensity are understood by me to 
be two fundamentally qualitatively different aspects, 
or attributes. Sensations have intensity, but no viv- 
idness; images or representations have vividness, but 
no intensity. Sensory elements may vary from min- 
imum to maximum intensity. This variation in inten- 
sity holds true both of primary and secondary sensory 
elements. Similarly, images or representations may 
pass through all degrees of vividness from minimum to 
maximum. The image represents the sensation. In 

1 60 



The Attributes of Sensory Elements 161 

this respect we may somewhat modify the well-known 
dictum of the sensationalists into : 'Nihil est in imagine 
quod non antefuerit in sensu.' The sensory element is 
represented by its respective representative element. 

The representative elements may refer with differ- 
ent degrees of vividness to the same sensory elements. 
An image with one degree of vividness can be sub- 
stituted for another with a different degree of vividness 
and still refer to the same sensory elements. The de- 
gree of vividness does not change the qualitative char- 
acter of the representation. Not so is it with the 
qualitative attribute of the sensation. The slightest 
change in the intensity of the sensation changes its qual- 
itative character. A sensation with one degree of inten- 
sity cannot be substituted for another. A sound or a 
color of a definite intensity cannot be substituted for a 
sound or color of a different intensity. The 
two are different sensations and no sensation can sub- 
stitute another. Sensations falling in the same series of 
intensity are really independent of one another, but each 
sensation of the intensive series can be represented by a 
whole series of representations of different vividness, 
from minimum to maximum. Different series of rep- 
resentative elements may also be regarded as indepen- 
dent, since they refer to independent sensations. 

If we symbolize a series of sensory elements by the 
letters: A*, A*, A*, A*, A*, . . . A n ; and if we 
symbolize the corresponding series of representative 
elements by at, a*, as, a*, at, a n , then the 

series of both sensory and representative elements may 
be symbolized by the following formula : 



[62 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 



Ai A* 


A. 


A, 


A, . 


. • A n 


a* a* 


as 


a* 


to 


a n 


i i 
a' a± 


as 1 






. 


ai a* 


ai 






. 


at a* 


3 

a-i 






9 


4 4 

ai a* 


4 

a» 






# 


s s 

ai a* 


6 

a* 






• 


• • 


• 








/i D si n 

ih Cl- 


0? 


a? a 


n 
s 


< 



The characteristic of the image, or of the represen- 
tative element is just its extraordinary plasticity and 
possibility of substitution. This function of substitu- 
tion was described by Taine with all the power of his 
lucid style. The great modifiability of representation 
plays an important role in psychic life — adaptabil- 
ity to various conditions of life increases, reactions cease 
to be rigid and uniform, but change easily in response 
to a changing environment. Variations of sense-organs 
with their physiological processes are rather slow and 
tardy, often requiring generations for an effective 
change, while the representative element can be modified 
and adapted within the life-existence of the individual 
and often in a very short time. In brief, the function 
of substitution possessed by the representative element 
in the processes of mental selection is the substitute for 
natural selection in the highest representatives of animal 
life. 

Now under ordinary conditions of life the graduated 
series of representative vividness runs parallel to the 
gradated series of sensory intensities. Usually a more 



The Attributes of Sensory Elements 163 

intense sensation is represented with greater vividness. 
The increase or decrease of intensity of the sensory 
series has a corresponding change in the vividness of 
the elements of the representative series. Intensity and 
vividness vary directly. Such direct variation, however, 
is not always the rule. There are cases, when the two 
part company. In states of distraction, in subwaking 
states, in states of dissociation, and generally in the con- 
ditions of functional psychosis, intensity and vividness 
do not vary directly. 

Strong stimulations may give rise to sensations 
of great intensity, but the vividness of the repre- 
sentative elements may fall so low as almost to 
reach the minimum. When the vividness is so low 
as to reach the minimum, the representative elements 
cannot be used as substitutes and, since reproduction 
belongs to representative elements which symbolically 
reproduce the sensations by the process of substitution, 
reproduction or memory of the original experience is 
absent and there is a break, a gap in mental continuity, 
dissociation results. The depths and extent of disso- 
ciation of mental systems may be regarded as variables 
of vividness. Dissociation varies inversely as vividness. 
When vividness is at its minimum, dissociation is at its 
maximum. The phenomena of functional psychosis 
having their origin in states of dissociation may thus be 
regarded psychologically as functions of vividness, the 
most characteristic attribute of representative elements. 
Functional psychosis with all its protean manifestations, 
the great variety of dissociated and subconscious states 
may thus be reduced to variations of one fundamental 
attribute — vividness. 



CHAPTER XXIV 

SENSATION AND EXTERNAL REALITY 

WE must not omit to point out another fun- 
damental difference between sensory and 
representative elements. Sensations have 
the significance, or possess the attribute of 
external reality, while images, ideas, or representations 
entirely lack it. Put in Baldwin's terminology — sensa- 
tions have the coefficient of external reality, the 
sensory coefficient of reality. No matter wheth- 
er the sensation was produced by an external stim- 
ulus, or by a pathological process going on in the sense- 
organ, or brought about indirectly through the action 
of another sense-organ by means of indirect association- 
paths; no matter whether the sensation is primary or 
secondary, as long as it is a sensation at all, it possesses 
the sensory coefficient of reality. A sensation whether 
'true or false' possesses rightfully the coefficient of real- 
ity as its necessary and inherent attribute. The percept, 
true or hallucinatory, consisting of sensory elements, has 
therefore the sensory coefficient of reality. 

Psychologically regarded, the 'true' percept and the 
hallucination have the same sensory constitution with 
the same attributes. The difference between the true 
and false percept may be regarded from a biological 
standpoint as a matter of adjustment. The percepts 
with successful adjustments are true, while those with 
unsuccessful motor reactions are false and hallucina- 
tory. Psychologically, the difference between the 'true' 

164 



Sensation and External Reality 165 

percept and hallucination is in the shifting of the pri- 
mary and secondary sensory elements. Where the sec- 
ondary sensory elements can be shifted and become pri- 
mary, the percept is regarded as true; where the second- 
ary sensory elements do not admit of being shifted and 
becoming primary, the percept is regarded as halluci- 
natory. 

If we turn now to the representative elements, we 
find that they lack the sensory coefficient of reality. 
This lack of sensory coefficient is only the negative side 
of the image. There is also a positive side to it. The 
image is not felt as image, because it is not sen- 
sation or lacks the sensory coefficient, but because it 
possesses a qualitative character of its own. A sen- 
sation is not felt as such, simply because it lacks the 
character of another sensation. Thus sensation green 
is not experienced as the particular color sensation, be- 
cause it has not the quale of sound or of pressure, but 
because the sensation green has a positive experience 
of its own. The same holds good of the representa- 
tion — it possesses its own characteristic quale. As an 
experience sui generis we claim for the representation 
a special psychic mark, an 'ideational or representative 1 
coefficient. The image has its own qualitative character 
just as the sensation possesses its own. In contrast to the 
sensation which possesses the coefficient of external real- 
ity, the image or representation has the coefficient of 
internal reality. Both sensation and image have real- 
ity, each one has its own kind of reality — the sensation 
has external objective reality, the image has internal 
subjective reality. It is on account of the ideational or 
representative coefficient that every image is placed 
unhesitatingly into its own world of reality, into its own 



1 66 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

series of images with which it easily associates and fuses. 

Writers on psychology in trying to define further the 
coefficient of reality refer it to the will. Some maintain 
that the coefficient of reality is the 'independence of the 
will,' while others claim that the coefficient of reality is 
'subjection to the will.' Baldwin in his paper 'The 
Perception of External Reality,' offers an extreme- 
ly interesting solution which reconciles both views. 
He points out that there is a difference between 
the 'memory coefficient' of reality and 'sensational co- 
efficient' of reality. The two coefficients are opposite 
as far as control of will is concerned. The sensational 
coefficient is independence of the will, while the memory 
coefficient is control by the will. A sensation, in short, 
is not under the control of the will, while an image is 
subject to the will. 

Baldwin makes a further distinction between a 
simple image or 'memory image' and a 'memory 
image of external reality.' The memory image can 
be brought up voluntarily by its proper associates, but 
it has no sensational coefficient as a result, while the 
memory image of external reality can be followed by 
sensational coefficients, that is, sensations can be brought 
about in the train of such an image. To quote 
Baldwin: "Certainly a present sensible reality is 
not under the control of my will; it is independent, 
and if my coefficient is to be discovered in the relation 
of the presentation to my voluntary life, this must be its 
expression and I go over to the class of writers who find 
the psychological basis of external reality in sensations 
of resistance. But when we come to inquire into the 
'memory' coefficient — asking the question what charac- 
ter is in a memory-image which testifies to its being a 



Sensation and External Reality 167 

memory of reality, the tables seemed to be turned. 
Without stopping to examine other views, I hold that 
that image is a true memory which we are able to get 
again as a sensation (Baldwin's italics) by volun- 
tarily repeating the series of muscular sensations 
which were associated with it in its first experience. The 
memory coefficient therefore is subjection to the will in 
the sense indicated. ... A true memory in short 
is an image which I can get at will by a train of memory 
associates, and which, when got, is further subject to 
my will ; a memory of external reality, on the contrary, 
is an image which I can get at will by a train of sensa- 
tional associates and which, when got, is not subject to 
my will." 

Now if I understand Baldwin aright, a sensa- 
tion does not fall under the control of the will, while 
a simple 'memory image' and a 'memory image of ex- 
ternal reality' are both under the control of the will, the 
difference being that the former does not terminate in 
a sensation, whereas the latter does. This I take to 
mean that a sensation does not depend on the subject 
(will), but on the external objects; in other words, a 
sensation cannot be produced from center to periphery 
(not internally initiated by the will), but is initiated by 
an external excitation peripherally stimulating the sense- 
organ and giving rise to sensation. An image, on the 
other hand, does not depend for its initiation on the ex- 
ternal object or excitation, but is essentially an internal 
event which can be brought about from within by the 
process of associative activity, so highly characteristic 
of the image. Thus far my analysis seems to me to be 
in full accord with Baldwin's view. Similarly, Baldwin's 
views in regard to 'memory images' and 'memory im- 



1 68 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

ages of external reality,' the former not ending in sen- 
sory experience, the latter terminating in experience with 
sensory coefficient, seem to me to be closely related to 
the views expressed by me in this work and in my other 
works on the subject. 

In spite of the agreement on so many points there are 
other points which do not appear to me acceptable. We 
may agree that kinesthetic and muscular sensations or 
sensations of resistance are at the core of things, but 
are they the be-all of external reality? Have not sen- 
sations of pain, of hearing, of color, or of smell as much 
reality as our sensations coming from muscle, joint, 
synovial membrane and articular surfaces? The acute, 
shooting, twinging pains of rheumatism, gout, tabes- 
dorsalis, the burning pains of meningitis, the excruci- 
ating throbs of megrim, the fine stabbing pains of tooth- 
ache, the agony of angina, the sharp tormenting pains 
of facial neuralgia, and many other pains coming from 
different organs and tissues, are not they real and ex- 
ternal? In fact, do they not bear on them more the 
mark of grim, pitiless, external necessity than any of 
the sensations coming from active muscle and joint? 
What about light, color, sound, smell, are not they sen- 
sations of external reality, even if sensations of resist- 
ance do not enter into their make-up? 

Muscular and kinesthetic sensations may be granted 
to play an important role in our knowledge of things, 
but psychologically regarded, all sensations bear on them 
unmistakably the mark of external reality. It is not the 
particular form or kind of sensation, but it is the sen- 
sory quale as such, that gives the coefficient of reality. 
As far as resistance is concerned Baldwin is 
right, if it be applied to each and every sensation. For 



Sensation and External Reality 169 

each and every sensation possesses this mark of stub- 
bornness about it; it shows opposition, resistance, and 
floods the mind. We may say that the stimulus forces 
open the gates of the sense-organs and invades the mind 
with an overwhelming power. Still, on the whole, 
Baldwin is right in laying special stress on sensa- 
tions of activity and resistance, since, biologically re- 
garded, they are the ones that give the smack of life 
and the kernel of things and help to bring about ad- 
justments to the external environment. 

Thus far the difference between Baldwin and 
myself seems to be rather insignificant.* When, 
however, we reach what Baldwin terms the 'mem- 
ory image of external reality' the difference stands 
out somewhat more strongly. He contrasts the two, 
image and sensation, on the basis of dependence or in- 
dependence of the will. The sensation is independent 
of the will, while the memory image of external reality 
is subject to the will which can bring about the sensation 
originally experienced. Now it seems to me that we 
are just as sure of the external reality of a sensation 
referred to by the memory image, even if we cannot 
bring about the original experience. We may perceive 
sensations which cannot possibly be repeated, and still 
they are regarded in memory as events that have taken 
place in the world of external reality. We may have 
the perception of a comet which may never again come 



*The difference is far less than I have originally thought. In a 
letter to me Professor Baldwin writes : "I am much interested in 
your views. You will find my later and fuller treatment of resist- 
ance and of the nature of memory images in my Thought and 
Things, or Genetic Logic, where I attempt explicitly to trace the 
genetic development of knowledge from sense objects to image 
objects in detail, being I think nearer to your views than my earlier 
article brought out," 



170 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

into our experience, and even if it should come, its com- 
ing is not due to our voluntary control; it is not we 
that can make the comet-experience come into our per- 
ceptual or sensory world with its sensory coefficient of 
external reality. We may be in the position of Plato's 
cave-dwellers and have no control over reality, the 
reflection of which is displayed before us, and still we 
may agree with Plato that for the cave-dwellers the 
memory images of external reality, the recurrence of 
which is not under control, will still be discriminated 
from a general memory image, from an image of fancy. 
The sensation or percept may be unique, its reproduc- 
tion may not be possible, and still its memory image will 
be that of external reality. 

On the other hand, we meet in psychopathologv with 
a vast domain of phenomena, such as recurrent mental 
states, insistent ideas which force themselves on the 
patient's mind against his will. The recurrent mental 
states or the insistent ideas are far more stubborn and 
uncontrollable than anv resistant sensorv obiect. The 
idea mav come like attacks which overcome the patient 
more than anv sensory reality, or the idea mav be per- 
sistent oriawing at the very vitals of his mental life. No 
external obiect is so stubbornly, so painfullv resistant 
as iust such an idea: and still the insistent idea is not 
regarded as a sensorv realitv. The insistent idea 00s- 
sesses the coefficient of external realitv, independence of 
the will, painfullv so, and still it is not regarded bv the 
patient as external reality: in spite of its being inde- 
oendent of the will, it is still regarded as an idea. 

Tt seems to me that we cannot express the sensational 
and ideational coefficients in terms of will, of control or 
non-control. Tt is not resistance to the will that makes ex- 



Sensation and External Reality 17 1 

perience sensory, nor is it subjection to the will that 
makes experience ideational or representative. Why 
not state the fact as it is? External reality is the quale 
of sensory experience, while internal reality is the quale 
of the image or representation. A sensation is experi- 
enced as sensation, no matter whether or no it depends 
on the will, the independence is a secondary matter ; the 
same holds true in the case of the image, it is experi- 
enced as image, independent of the fact of its subjection 
to the will. 

There is another view which finds the fundamental 
difference between percept and image in what is and 
what is not common to all selves. Perceptual experi- 
ence is common, while ideational experience is not com- 
mon to all fellow-beings. I see the sun and other peo- 
ple can share it with me, while my image of the sun 
is experienced by myself. Thus Calkins tells us: 
"I perceive lowering heavens, pouring rain, bare trees 
and drenched sparrows, but I imagine wide horizons, 
brilliant sky, blossoming apple-trees and nestling ori- 
oles. The main difference is this : in the one case I as- 
sume that my experience is shared by other people and 
that everybody who looks out sees the same dreary land- 
scape; but my imagination of the sunny orchard I re- 
gard as my private and unshared experience." 

The mark of being common is not the essential coef- 
ficient of external reality given by the percept. The 
percept is not experienced as external, because 
it is common to other people. We do not see the tree 
yonder, because other people can see it too; we would 
see it there, even, if, like Robinson Crusoe, we had no 
fellow-being to compare notes with. A hallucination 
is as fully a percept and is perceived in the full garb of 



172 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

external reality, although it may have no currency with 
my fellow-men. The percept possesses the coefficient 
of external reality, no matter whether or no others can 
share in it. 

Moreover, psychologically regarded, the percept is 
as much of a private experience as the image is, In fact, 
every psychic state has the privacy ascribed to the 
image, and as such is unshared by other selves. It is 
simply the old psychological fallacy of confusing the 
physical with the psychic object, or with the 
psychic state cognizant of the physical object.* 
The flower as physical object, as stimulus, is 
shared by all who perceive it, but the per- 
ception of the flower varies with each individual. My 
perception of the flower cannot be experienced by any 
one else; like the image, the percept is entirely individ- 
ual, unshared by other selves. I perceive the flower as 
having external reality, not because my perceptual expe- 
rience is the same as that of other people, not because 
it is shared with others — as a matter of fact, it is not the 
same, and from its very nature cannot be the same as 
the experience of others, as we cannot possibly share 
our individual psychic experience with our fellow-men. 
We perceive the flower as an external reality simply and 
solely because it is sensory. The percept consisting of 
sensations, primary and secondary, bears the impress of 
external reality; it possesses what Baldwin so apt- 
ly terms 'sensational coefficient' giving external 
reality. External reality is given directly and imme- 
diately by the sensation or by the sensory compound, by 



*Royce and Miinsterberg define the physical object in terms of 
'sociality,' but if I understand them correctly they do not regard the 
definition as a psychological one. 



Sensation and External Reality 173 

the percept. 

To quote from a work of mine: "Sensation 
carries along with it the reality of its stimulus. It 
is not that the sense of reality is different from the sen- 
sation, it is given in the sensation itself. Similarly the 
percept and the sense of external reality are not two dif- 
ferent things; they are given together in the same pro- 
cess of perception and are identical. . . . The 
sensory process is also the process of the sense of ex- 
ternal reality. ... In seeing or perceiving the 
chair yonder we do not perceive it as real, because of its 
social or common character — the reality of its existence 
is given directly in the sensory processes of the percept 
itself. . . . 

The sense of reality of the external object is 
strengthened by association of the original sensory 
systems with other sensory systems, and the intensity 
rises in proportion to the number of systems of sen- 
sory elements, brought into relation with the function- 
ing sensory systems. . . . The more systems of 
sensory elements are pressed into service, the stronger 
is the sense of external reality and the more assured is 
the reaction to the stimuli of the external environment. 

In the evolutionary process of man's adaptation to his 
environment he becomes extended in being and grows 
more developed, because of his social relations. Man 
presses into active service the systems of sensory ele- 
ments of his fellow-beings. Adaptations and hence suc- 
cessful reactions to the external environment are now 
more assured and the sense of external reality is still 
further emphasized and intensified. Throughout the 
course of intensification of the sense of reality the prin- 
ciple remains unchanged in nature. The sense of re- 



174 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

ality is given by and consists in nothing else but the sen- 
sory elements." 

From a philosophical and epistemological stand- 
point the social aspect may perhaps be sufficient 
to fix the externality of the object, but from a 
psychological standpoint the trade-mark of 'shares and 
common stock' has no currency. The percept consist- 
ing, as we have shown, of sensory elements, primary 
and secondary, possesses, on that account, the sensory 
attribute of external reality. 



CHAPTER XXV 

- I 

THE SUBCONSCIOUS AND UNCONSCIOUS CEREBRATION 

PLATO put on the portals of his academy the 
inscription, "No one can enter here without a 
knowledge of geometry." Similarly no one can 
gain access to the facts of abnormal psychology 
without a thorough understanding of the subconscious. 
The subconscious may be briefly defined as mental pro- 
cesses of which the individual is not directly conscious. 
Such knowledge is all the more requisite as psychopathic 
disturbances with which psychopathology proper deals 
are essentially affections of subconscious life activity. 
The general drift of my Psychology of Suggestion is the 
description of the subconscious as a diffused conscious- 
ness below the margin of personal consciousness. I 
sometimes use the term "subconscious self." I designate 
by "self" not personal consciousness, but mere con- 
sciousness. In Multiple Personality, in which I develop 
the theory of thresholds in regard to the phenomena of 
normal and abnormal mental life, I define the sub- 
conscious as consciousness below the threshold of at- 
tentive personal consciousness. I find that my clinical 
and psychological investigations more and more con- 
firm me in the view of the subconscious advanced by 
me in The Psychology of Suggestion. I am pleased to 
find that Prof. James, in a recent article, accepts the 
same view, and advances the same theory of threshold 
in regard to the subconscious. "Nobody knows," he 
writes, "how far we are 'marginally' conscious of these 

175 



176 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

memories, concepts and conational states at ordinary 
times, or how far beyond the 'margin' of our present 
thought trans-marginal consciousness of them may 
exist." 

In my Psychology of Suggestion I pointed out the 
difficulties of the purely physiological interpretation of 
the subconscious. Since this view still lingers among 
some psychologists, I cannot do better than reproduce 
the passage : 

"The facts of hypnotic memory alone strongly indi- 
cate the intelligent nature of the subconscious. Can the 
theory of unconscious cerebration explain, for instance, 
the fact of suggested amnesia during hypnosis ? I hyp- 
notize Mr. V. F. and make him pass through many 
lively scenes and actions. I give him hypnotic and post- 
hypnotic suggestions. The subject is wakened and hyp- 
notized time and again. At last he is put into a hyp- 
notic state, and it is suggested that on awakening he 
shall not remember anything of what had happened 
in the state of hypnosis. The subject, on emerging 
from his trance, remembers nothing of what he has 
passed through. I then put my hand on his forehead 
and tell him in a commanding voice, 'You remember 
now everything.' As if touched by the wand of a 
magician, the suppressed memories become endowed 
with life and movement, and invade the consciousness 
of the subject. Everything is now clearly remembered, 
and the subject is able to relate the tale of his ad- 
ventures without the omission of the least incident. So 
detailed is the account that one cannot help wondering 
at the extraordinary memory displayed by the subject. 
How is the theory of unconscious cerebration to ac- 
count for this strange fact? Prof. Ziehen, in his Phys- 



Subconscious and Unconscious Cerebration 177 

iological Psychology tells us that it is still a matter 
of doubt whether, despite their complication, all the 
acts of the hynotized individual are not motions ac- 
complished without any concomitant psychical pro- 
cesses," and that "even the recollection of the hypnotic 
psychical processes do not necessarily argue in favor 
of their existence during the hypnotic trance." This 
extreme view is certainly wrong, for the subject during 
hypnosis not only acts, moves, but he also speaks, an- 
swers questions intelligently, reasons, discusses; and if 
such an individual may be regarded as a mere machine, 
on the same grounds we may consider any rational man 
as a mere unconscious automaton. 

The advocates of unconscious cerebration must ad- 
mit at least this much, that hypnosis is a conscious state. 
Now, on the theory of unconscious cerebration, it is 
truly inconceivable how psychical states can be sup- 
pressed, the accompanying physiological processes alone 
being left, and all that done by a mere word of the ex- 
perimenter. The restoration of memory is still more 
incomprehensible than the suggested amnesia. A com- 
mand by the experimenter, "Now you can remember," 
brings into consciousness a flood of ideas and images. 
It is not that the experimenter gives the subject a clue 
which starts the train of particular images and ideas; 
but the mere general, abstract suggestion, "You can re- 
member," is sufficient to restore memories which to all 
appearances have ..completely vanished from the mind 
of the subject. Are the unconscious physiological ner- 
vous modifications so intelligent as to understand sug- 
gestions and follow them? Does unconscious cerebra- 
tion understand the command of the experimenter, and 
does it oblige him to become conscious? 



178 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

On closer examination, we find the term uncon- 
scious cerebration to be of so loose a nature that 
under its head are often recorded facts that clearly 
indicate the working of an intelligence. Thus, Mr. 
Charles M. Child brings the following fact as a 
specimen of unconscious cerebration: "I had earnestly 
been trying," a gentleman writes to Mr. Child, 
"to make a trial balance, and at last left off 
working, the summary of the Dr. and Cr. sides of 
the account showing a difference of £2 10s., the Dr. 
side being so much smaller. The error I had not found 
on Saturday night when I left the counting-house. On 
this same Saturday night I retired feeling nervous and 
angry with myself. Some time in the night I dreamed 
thus: I was seated at my desk in the counting-house 
and in a good light; everything was orderly and nat- 
ural, the ledger lying before me. I was looking over 
the balance of the accounts and comparing them with 
the sums in the trial-balance sheet. Soon I came to a 
debit balance of £2 10s. I looked at it, called myself 
sundry names, spoke to myself in a deprecating manner 
of my own eyes, and at last put the £2 10s. to its proper 
side of the trial-balance sheet and went home. I arose 
at the usual Sunday time, dressed carefully, breakfasted, 
went to call on some . . . friends to go to church. 
Suddenly the dream flashed on my memory. I went for 
the keys, opened the office, also the safe, got the ledger, 
and turned to the folio my dream had indicated. There 
was the account whose balance was the sum wanted 
which I had omitted to put in the balance-sheet, where 
it was put now, and my year's posting proved correct." 

The adherents of unconscious cerebration tacitly in- 
clude under this term not only unconscious physiological 



Subconscious and Unconscious Cerebration 179 

processes, or nerve modifications, but also psychical 
states. Keeping clearly in mind the real meaning of un- 
conscious cerebration as referring to physiological pro- 
cesses, or nerve modifications with no psychical accom- 
paniment, the difficulties of unconscious cerebration to 
account for the phenomena of hypnotic memory be- 
come truly insurmountable. For if the physiological 
processes subsumed under the category of unconscious 
cerebration are completely lacking in all psychical ele- 
ments whatever, how can a general abstract negative 
phrase, "You cannot remember," suppress particular 
psychical states, and how can a similar positive phrase, 
"You can remember," bring the forgotten memories 
back to consciousness? It is simply incomprehensible. 

Furthermore, while the subject is in a hypnotic con- 
dition, we can suggest to him that on awakening he 
shall not remember anything, but when put to the au- 
tomatic recorder he shall be able to write everything 
that has taken place in the state of hypnosis. The 
subject is then awakened: he remembers nothing at all 
of what he has passed through while in the state of hyp- 
notic trance. As soon, however, as he is put to the 
automatic recorder the hand gives a full rational ac- 
count of all the events. If now you ask the subject what 
it is he has written, he stares at you in confusion; he 
knows nothing at all of the writing. How shall we ac- 
count for this fact on the theory of unconscious cere- 
bration ? Can unconscious physiological processes write 
rational discourses? It is simply miraculous, incom- 
prehensible. 

These, however, are not the only difficulties which 
the theory of unconscious cerebration has to encounter. 
Take the following experiment: I gave Mr. V. F. 



180 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

the suggestion that on awakening he should put my 
coat on three times, take it off, and put it on again; 
that he should do it when he heard a signal which 
should be a knock ; amnesia was suggested and also the 
possibility of writing the suggestion. The subject was 
then roused from his trance. There was not the slight- 
est recollection of what had been suggested, but when 
he was put to the automatic recorder the hand at once 
proceeded to write everything. In the middle of the 
writing, "when a signal will be given . . .," I 
stopped the subject and asked him what he was writing 
about. "I do not know," he answered. "How is it," 
I asked again, "you write and do not know what you 
write?" "I do not know, I think it was something 
about a coat." "What was it you were writing about a 
coat?" "I do not know, maybe it was about the make 
of a coat." Then when the signal came, he rose and 
put on the coat three times. 

To take another experiment of the same kind : 
I give the subject the suggestion that he should 
bow to the gas whenever the door should be opened; 
again amnesia is suggested, with the possibility of 
writing. The subject is stopped when he finished 
his account. "What was it you wrote?" I asked. 
The subject looked surprised. I repeated my ques- 
tion. "I do not know, I think something about a 
door." "What was it about a door?" "I do not 
know." I have made many similar experiments, and 
all of them with the same results. It is evident that the 
writing is not an unconscious automatic process, for the 
subject possesses a general knowledge of what he has 
written, or even of what he is going to write. 

Now, on the theory of unconscious cerebration this 



Subconscious and Unconscious Cerebration 181 

general knowledge ought to be entirely lacking, since the 
physiological processes of the suppressed memory have 
no psychical accompaniment. It would not do to say 
that the subject knows each word as he writes it, but be- 
comes unconscious of it, forgets it as soon as it is written 
down, because the subject is able to tell the central idea; 
that is, he has a general knowledge of it; and, what is 
more, he is able to tell us this general central idea even 
before he finishes the writing, — in fact, he can do it 
when stopped in the middle of the phrase. On the 
theory of secondary consciousness, however, the ex- 
periments could not possibly give other results. The 
secondary consciousness understands the suggestion 
given by the experimenter, accepts them, obeys the 
commands, keeps the suppressed memories, and sends 
up a general knowledge of them to the upper conscious- 
ness, and if commanded, communicates the suppressed 
particular suggestions in all their details. 

The advocates of unconscious cerebration assume 
too much : they assume that normal memory, or recol- 
lection in the normal state, can be fully accounted for 
by unconscious physiological processes, and the only 
thing required is to apply this theory to the phenomena 
of hypnotic memory. It would be well to examine this 
theory and see how strong its claims are in the case of 
normal memory. 

Many a modern psycho-physiologist no doubt smiles 
at the crude, ancient psycho-physiological theory of per- 
ception. Images or copies of objects emanate from ob- 
jects, get deposited in the mind, hence perception, cog- 
nition, memory. The modern psycho-physiological 
speculations, however, the speculations of Maudsley, 
Carpenter, Ziehen, Ribot, etc., are no less crude. Thus, 



1 82 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

Ziehen, for instance, conceives that each sensation de- 
posits a copy of itself, — an image, an idea, in some 
one of the memory ganglion cells, and memory consists 
in the reproduction of this copy, — the hen lays an egg 
from which another hen may come out. Maudsley 
expresses the same thing in slightly different terms ; in- 
stead of "deposits of images in memory ganglion cells," 
he uses "modifications of nerve elements." "It may be 
supposed," says Maudsley, "that the first activity did 
leave behind it, when it subsided, some after-effect, some 
modification of the nerve element, whereby the nerve 
circuit was disposed to fall again readily into the same 
action, such disposition (unconscious) appearing in con- 
sciousness as recognition or memory." Ribot and many 
other psychologists, with slight variations in minor 
points, follow the same beaten track. All of them agree 
that it is the nerve modifications produced by the physi- 
ological processes of sensations, emotions, etc., that con- 
stitute the basis, nay, the very essence, of memory itself. 
It does not require a close examination to find the de- 
ficiencies of this theory. A mere modification left be- 
hind as a trace cannot possibly explain memory, recol- 
lection, the fact of referring a particular bit of experi- 
ence to an experience felt before. The retention of a 
trace or of a nervous modification, and the reproduc- 
tion of that trace or modification, cannot in the least 
account for the fact that a series of sensations, ideas, 
images, emotions felt at different times, should become 
combined, brought into a unity, felt like being similar, 
like being repetitions, copies of an original experience. 
77 is not retention or reproduction, but it is the recogni- 
tion element that constitutes the essence of memory. 
The rose of to-day reminds me of the rose of yesterday, 



Subconscious and Unconscious Cerebration 183 

of the same rose seen the day before yesterday. Now 
the image of the rose may be retained, may even be 
reproduced, but if it is not recognized as having hap- 
pened in my past, there can be no recollection. In short, 
without personal recognition there is no memory. As 
James strongly puts it, "the gutter is worn deeper 
by each successive shower, but not for that reason 
brought into contact with previous showers." Does the 
theory of unconscious physiological processes, of mate- 
rial brain traces, of nerve modifications, does the theory 
take into account this element of personal recognition? 
Can the theory of unconscious cerebration offer the 
faintest suggestion as to how that element of recognition 
is brought about ? What is that something added to the 
unconscious physiological trace or nerve modification 
that effects a conscious recognition? 

Furthermore, first impressions can be localized in the 
past, but so can also each subsequent revival. How 
shall we explain on the theory of unconscious physio- 
logical nerve registration that the original, the primi- 
tive sense experience, as well as each subsequent re- 
vival, can be referred to as distinct psychical facts. For 
if the structural nerve elements are slightly modified 
with each revival, how shall we account for this psy- 
chical distinction of the original sense experience as well 
as of the modified revivals? The remembered experi- 
ence leaves its own individual trace, then a trace of its 
being a copy of a former original impression, and also 
a trace of its being a member in a series of similar 
traces, each trace being a copy of another and a copy of 
the original impression. How all that is done is a 
mystery." 

These objections advanced by me many years ago 



184 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

hold true of recent theories which fall back on the old 
views of Mill and Carpenter, namely, unconscious cere- 
bration. The modern upholders of unconscious cere- 
bration think that they have discovered new facts 
and arguments in favor of unconscious mental activ- 
ity, and are thus justified in denying subconscious men- 
tal life. The arguments, as we have pointed out, are 
not new, nor are the facts advanced in support of these 
arguments true. The same objections hold true in the 
case of the theory of unconscious cerebration offered us 
in the garb of nerve currents and nerve paths, well worn 
nerve tracks, opening and closing of nerve currents and 
tracks, and formation of all shapes and forms of neu- 
rograms. Why be misled by figments and by sounds? 
The subconscious stands for a number of facts, reac- 
tions, and behavior which are accompanied by psychic 
life, by mental activities, by consciousness. 

The physiological unconscious registration theories of 
nerve currents, nerve-paths, and neurograms are not 
only figments, arbitrary fanciful weavings of the imag- 
ination, they cannot even hypothetically explain the 
simplest act of memory, and especially of recognitive 
memory. 

Since the theories of unconscious registration fail us 
in the most elementary mental processes, how can we 
possibly rely on cerebration-fancies in the case of such 
complex phenomena as hypnotic conditions and various 
mental states of trance and dissociation? The physio- 
logical theories, such as unconscious cerebration and 
its modifications, failing, we must use for all those 
phenomena the psychological interpretation. The sub- 
conscious must be taken as a necessary theory in psy- 
chopathology, as atoms, molecules, electrons and ether 



Subconscious and Unconscious Cerebration 185 

are in chemistry and physics. The subconscious is not 
an "unconscious," it is not a physiological automatism. 
The subconscious is a consciousness, a secondary con- 
sciousness, a sort of secondary self, the self being un- 
derstood by me as a diffused consciousness. 



CHAPTER XXVI 

THE SUBCONSCIOUS AND AUTOMATISM 

THE theory of unconscious cerebration dies 
hard. Recently a few psychologists made an 
attempt to revive it. The arguments ad- 
vanced are rather philosophical than psycho- 
logical. It may be well to test the validity of these ar- 
guments. If we clear the ground of all superfluous 
speculations, we find two main contentions. In the first 
place, it is assumed that many hypnotic and hysterical 
manifestations are solely the result of physiological ac- 
tivities. It is claimed by some, such as Miinsterberg, 
that physiological processes without any psychic accom- 
paniments, may reach such a high state of complexity 
as to account fully for all the observed manifestations in 
the different forms of mental dissociations. In the sec- 
ond place, it is claimed, from a purely philosophical 
standpoint, that even in the case of dissociation when 
consciousness may be granted to be present, there is no 
dissociation in consciousness itself, since consciousness is 
but a passive onlooker while the active changes go on in 
the content of consciousness; in other words, in states 
of dissociation it is not consciousness that is changed, 
but only the content of consciousness. 

Let us examine these contentions and see whether 
they can stand the test of critical analysis. The view 
of regarding mental activity from a purely physiological 
standpoint is not new, it dates as far back as Descartes, 
who regards all the animals, with the exception of man, 

186 



The Subconscious and Automatism 187 

as mechanical automata. The philosopher, Maimon, 
in his "Autobiography" tells an anecdote on himself. 
In his youth Maimon was an ardent adherent of Car- 
tesian automatism. During one of his strolls with a 
friend Maimon struck a goat. The animal bleated. 
The friend rebuked Maimon for his cruelty. Maimon 
laughed at the simplicity of his friend. — "The goat is 
like a drum which sounds when it is beaten." 

Huxley carried this view further, regarding con- 
sciousness as an epiphenomenon. The physiological 
mechanism is the engine, consciousness is but the whis- 
tle accompanying it. 

Of course, it goes without saying that psychologists 
and physiologists at present assume that all states 
of consciousness are accompanied by physiological 
processes. Every thought, every feeling, even the most 
complicated poetical inspiration, or the most abstruse 
mathematical, logical, and metaphysical speculations, 
have physiological processes as their accompaniments. 
We are, however, hardly justified in carrying this postu- 
late to the absurdity of the total denial of consciousness, 
and regarding all adjustments and adaptations as so 
many chemical and mechanical reactions — "tropisms," 
as some modern biologists, such as Loeb and others, are 
apt to put it in the case of many animals, a reversion to 
the Cartesian hypothesis of mechanical automatism. Mo- 
tor reactions can be regarded solely from the physiolog- 
ical standpoint, but consciousness cannot be entirely 
ruled out. What probability is there that a play of 
atoms and electrons would produce the Iliad, Hamlet, 
the Principia of Newton, the Celestial Mechanics of La- 
place, or Darwin's Origin of Species? 

Even if we descend to such motor reactions as are 



1 88 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

expressed in the compositions of a schoolboy, we still un- 
hesitatingly assume a conscious activity. We cannot re- 
fute the philosopher who would regard all such mani- 
festations as so many physiological processes without 
any conscious accompaniment. For though every one 
is directly conscious of his own mental life, no one can 
experience directly the mental life of another. We can- 
not inspect directly the psychic processes that go on in 
other living beings, or in our fellow men. Mind is in- 
ferred from action, from behavior. Reactions, ad- 
justments to environment, accompanied by conscious- 
ness, by intelligence in us, are rightly judged to have the 
same accompaniment in other beings, in our neighbours. 
To deny consciousness to our neighbour, and to regard 
him as a physiological automaton, is to put oneself in 
the absurd position of denying the existence of states 
which are observed in ourselves under similar condi- 
tions. In fact, the burden of proof falls on those who 
make such a denial. 

Now, in the case of hypnosis or various states of dis- 
sociation, we meet with intelligent adjustments often 
expressed in gestures, writing, and speech. We can, by 
means of various methods, enter into active relation- 
ship with those dissociated activities, unknown to the in- 
dividual himself. We can obtain intelligent replies to 
our questions either by writing, or by speaking, or by 
other arranged means of communication. What right 
have we to deny consciousness in one case while we 
affirm it in another case under similar circumstances? 
When I receive a letter from my friend I regard the let- 
ter as having been written by a being who possesses 
consciousness, but when a similar letter is written by a 
friend in a hypnotic or post-hypnotic state, we regard 



The Subconscious and Automatism 189 

it as the result of physiological automatism, with no 
conscious accompaniment. It is clear that the denial of 
consciousness to the hypnotic individuality is purely ar- 
bitrary. It is certainly arbitrary in the case of double 
or multiple personality to regard one personality as con- 
scious and the other personalities as purely automatic, 
with no consciousness in them. It would have been 
more consistent, if the psychologist were to take the 
solipsistic point of view and deny consciousness to all 
else except himself. 

The arbitrary standpoint of the psychologist who de- 
nies secondary and multiple consciousness can be still 
further made clear in the case of coexistent, dissociated 
mental activity. Thus one hand of the subject or of 
the patient may write a letter, while the other hand may 
be engaged in drawing or writing a composition, of 
which the individual is not cognizant. Both hands 
enter independently of each other into communication 
with the external observer. The communications are 
independent and equally intelligent. In each case we 
get intelligent replies and reactions to our questions 
and stimulations. Which of the two is supposed to be 
conscious? To take a concrete experiment. Mr. M. 
presents phenomena of dissociation. When in one of 
those states of dissociation Mr. M. is made to write a 
letter with one hand, while the other hand, being an- 
aesthetic, is put under a screen and made to carry out a 
calculation. One hand replies to questions, while the 
other solves problems. Both hands give intelligent re- 
plies. To which of them is consciousness to be ascribed? 
If we deny it in one case, we should also deny it in the 
other. But, then, why not be consistent, and deny it 
in every case of intelligent adjustment? We realize 



190 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

how arbitrary and illogical is the position of those psy- 
chologists who coquet with physiology under the de- 
lusion that they are more scientific. They are led to 
take arbitrary positions which lead into the pitfalls 
of solipsism, with all its contradictions and absurdities. 

Besides, physiological processes are, after all, but hy- 
pothetical concepts; physiological currents are con- 
ceived after the model of electrical currents, and are by 
no means theoretically proven. While they should be 
used for the sake of a better elucidation of the facts, it 
is not good scientific sense to sacrifice to them the very 
material of the science of psychology. Sensations, ideas, 
feelings, emotions, are after all the direct data of the 
psychologist, while physiological processes and currents 
are purely hypothetical. When, therefore, these hy- 
pothetical entities lead not to a better understanding 
of the facts of mental life, but to their denial, the very 
purpose of the hypothetical creations is completely de- 
feated. 

Physiological processes are framed to explain states 
of consciousness with their motor reactions. When, 
therefore, these hypothetical creations threaten to sweep 
away the actual living facts, it is time to halt and ex- 
amine closely the sterile character of the hypothesis. 
The central fallacy lies in the tacit assumption that un- 
known and possibly unknowable, highly problematical 
brain currents, with their "opening and closing valves," 
with "well worn or blocked paths," all of a purely conjec- 
tural character, have, by their ingenious complexity, be- 
come, likes marionettes, so marvellously endowed with 
sense-like activities as to dispense completely with the 
mental states which these conceptual entities were 
called in to explain. 



The Subconscious and Automatism 19 1 

Clinical cases and experimental facts go further to 
invalidate the theory of the purely physical interpreta- 
tion of the subconscious, or what may be described as 
automatism-psychology. If anything is of the utmost 
importance in mental life, it is surely memory. Mem- 
ory forms a unity of our life, brings, so to speak, to a 
focus our life-experiences, which would have otherwise 
been disconnected, confused, and chaotic. I remem- 
ber just now what I did an hour ago, a day ago, what 
I lived through many years ago. I remember the ex- 
periences of my childhood, boyhood, and youth. I re- 
member my struggles and disappointments, my loves, 
my friendships, my enmities, my feelings, sentiments, 
emotions, ideas, and sensations. All these inter-con- 
nected, interlocked links of memories form the solid 
chain of my conscious personality. 

In my memory of the past experiences there is 
the present consciousness that all that I had gone 
through at the time of the experience — any change, 
any modification, that had taken place — occurred 
in my mind, in my consciousness. Unless under 
delusion or illusion of memory we cannot remem- 
ber what did not occur in consciousness. We can- 
not remember what we were not conscious of. The 
past mental state which the present memory refers to is 
a state of consciousness; otherwise memory is impossi- 
ble and meaningless. Memory, recollection, reminis- 
cence, can only refer to a previous state of consciousness. 
Surely no one else can have a better and more direct 
knowledge than I myself have of the ideas, emotions, 
and moods that I remember, as experienced by me. 

The memory factor is all the more important in 
psychology, since we have to take account of the sub- 



192 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

ject's inner experiences. In each case of memory the 
burden of proof falls on those who deny the validity of 
that memory, as referring to a past state of conscious- 
ness. Suppose I have a memory in a full state of con- 
sciousness that I lighted a lamp an hour ago, the burden 
of proof would fall on those who deny the existence of 
such a state. It would be an arbitrary, if not a prepos- 
terous position for an outside observer to claim that the 
lighting of the lamp was carried out mechanically, by 
a physiological automatism, and that the subsequent 
memory was but an illusion. The onus of proof that 
the original act had no conscious accompaniment is en- 
tirely on those who take such a position in opposition 
to the direct introspective account. Where such a proof 
is not forthcoming, the position taken is arbitrary. Were 
we to take such a position, the very science of 
psychology would become an impossibility, since all 
memory would have to be declared a snare and a delu- 
sion. All psychological studies based on introspection 
and memory would have to be abandoned, and we 
should have to follow Comte, and declare psychology 
an impossibility. A psychologist maintaining such a 
point of view is, from the very nature of his attitude, 
disqualified to give his opinion; he must fall back on 
physiology, and rule out all psychology. 

If, however, memory and introspection are not re- 
jected, then the recollection of a conscious state should 
not be arbitrarily dismissed, unless there are good rea- 
sons for such a dismissal. Now, the hypnotic subject, 
or the patient, in the case of functional psychosis, un- 
dergoes an experience of which he is apparently uncon- 
scious. In a subsequent state, in a hypnotic or trance 
state, he actually recollects that the experience was a 



The Subconscious and Automatism 193 

conscious one; we cannot possibly reject this recollec- 
tion as an illusion of memory. The burden of proof 
that the former state was not a conscious one falls on 
him who denies the person's mental experience. Such a 
proof is all the more requisite, since it can be demon- 
strated that in subconscious states there is really pres- 
ent a subconscious consciousness. 



CHAPTER XXVII 

THE SUBCONSCIOUS AND THE PASSIVE CONSCIOUSNESS 

DRIVEN out of the psychological fortress, 
some psychologists of the philosophical type 
(Miinsterberg) still take refuge in the meta- 
physical citadel. It is claimed that, psycho- 
logically, mental life is analyzed into consciousness and 
its content. Now, it is further assumed that all mental 
modifications occur in mental contents, but not in con- 
sciousness. Consciousness, itself, is supposed to be a 
passive, immutable looker-on, a sort of psychic deity. 
We thus have a mental content which is not conscious 
and a consciousness, the blessed Buddha in his blissful 
state of Nirvana. Consciousness is regarded in the light 
of a substance which contains the mental content some- 
what after the fashion of a material substance underly- 
ing physical qualities. This view of an underlying, im- 
mutable substance, with a changing qualitative content, 
was long ago criticized by Hume, both in the case of 
mind and body. The assumption of an entity under- 
lying observed phenomena, whether physical or mental, 
has since become so weakened that it is no longer re- 
garded as a living hypothesis among thinking men of 
science. 

We can see at a glance that the substance-conscious- 
ness with its changing qualitative content is but a piece 
of metaphysical speculation, it is a revival of the old 
soul-hypothesis, long ago buried by modern psycholo- 
gists. The soul-consciousness hypothesis must be re- 

194 



Subconscious and the Passive Consciousness 195 

jected, for the simple reason that it complicates 
matters, and explains nothing. In fact, the hypo- 
thesis of an imperturbable soul-consciousness from the 
very nature of its hypothetical being, itself requires an 
explanation, while it does not in the least explain the 
mental content, which is the material of the psycholo- 
gist. Such a passive, changeless soul-consciousness is 
a sort of box in which the content of soul-consciousness 
resides and has its being. This soul-consciousness is but 
a survival from a past metaphysical period. 

In the case of double and multiple personalities it is 
claimed that while the personalites are different, their 
consciousness is not different, but one and the same. In 
the different personalities found in the case of multiple 
personality, there is among them but one consciousness, 
somewhat like the Greek myth of the three old women 
with one eye among them. By a parity of reasoning we 
may say that the minds of different individuals, such as 
John's and Peter's, are really identical. John and Pe- 
ter are different personalities with different contents, 
but with the same consciousness. In fact, we may gen- 
eralize further and say that the whole human race and 
the beasts of the field and the birds of the air share 
in one and the same indivisible, passive, immutable con- 
sciousness, a sort of world-soul. This may be a grand 
metaphysical speculation, but it is neither psychological 
nor scientific. 

There is another objection to the subconscious, an 
objection based on an artificial fast and hard line drawn 
between the purpose of science on the one hand, and 
that of will on the other. Science, it is claimed, deals 
with artificial concepts, while personal will is concerned 
with the real values of life, It is claimed that the con- 



196 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

cept of the subconscious is illegitimate, because it in- 
volves a confusion of this metaphysical double book- 
keeping. 

The world of description and the world of appre- 
ciation were brought out and contrasted by Professor 
Royce in his early works, and afterwards elaborated by 
a few psychologists of the Schopenhauerian tinge. The 
division is not new, and dates back to the Middle Ages, 
with its split of science and philosophy on the one hand, 
and religion on the other. It is the doctrine of the two- 
fold truth (Die Lehre von der zweifachen Wahrheit). 
According to mediaeval thought, there are two realms, 
the realm of knowledge and the realm of faith; the 
realm of intellect and the realm of will. What is true 
in the one may not be true in the other. From Maimo- 
nides, Ibn Gabirol, Albertus Magnus, Thomas Aquinas 
to Duns Scotus and Occam the same doctrine of the two- 
fold truth and the two realms prevailed. The scholastic 
could say anything he wished provided he was cautious 
to claim that what was true secundum rationem was not 
true secundum fidem. 

This double view still survives in some philosophical 
quarters. Instead of finding fault with the subcon- 
scious for ignoring this time-honored double truth, it 
should rather be regarded as a special merit. As a mat- 
ter of fact, the subconscious, unless interpreted in meta- 
physical terms of a cosmic self, has nothing to do with 
the heirloom of metaphysical mediaeval thought. The 
subconscious is based on experience and facts to which 
philosophical and metaphysical distinctions should adapt 
themselves. 

We thus find that the objections to the subconscious 
are based on insufficient grounds. We also find that the 



Subconscious and the Passive Consciousness 197 

abandonment of the subconscious leads to a tangle of 
difficulties and to the quagmire of mediaeval metaphys- 
ics. , If the metaphysical interpretation of the sub- 
conscious in the sense of a cosmic self lands one in the 
misty regions of religious mysticism, the opposite view 
of the total negation of the subconscious, apparently in 
the interests of science, lands one in regions no less 
shadowy, regions of naturalistic mysticism. 

So fundamental, however, is the concept of the sub- 
conscious that even its opponents have to admit it under 
different names. They admit the fact of dissociation, 
of dissociated mental systems, and of dissociated person- 
alities. But they put forth the hypothetical claim that 
it is one and the same consciousness present in all the 
different forms of dissociation. Now, if we omit that 
speculative metaphysical consciousness which, being in- 
active and unchangeable, is of no use in scientific work, 
we are really left with the mutations and permutations 
of mental systems which, from their very nature, must 
be conscious. The psychopathologist must postulate 
the subconscious just as the geometrician postulates space 
and position, or as the physicist postulates matter and 
force. 



CHAPTER XXVIII 

SUBCONSCIOUS AND UNCONSCIOUS IDEAS 

THERE is a school which regards the sub- 
conscious as formed of "suppressed mental 
complexes." The views of this school are 
not psychologically clear. It seems, however, 
that the subconscious is viewed in the light of "un- 
conscious ideas." "Unconscious Ideas" were discussed 
by me in my Psychology of Suggestion, and I cannot 
do better than to quote from that volume, "For the 
mechanism of consciousness is hidden deep down in the 
depths of the subconscious, and it is thither we have to 
descend in order to get a clear understanding of the 
phenomena that appear in the broad daylight of con- 
sciousness. 

The German school, with Wundt at its head, at first 
started out on similar lines, but they could not make any 
use of the subconscious, and their speculations ran wild 
in the fancies of Hartmann. The reason of this failure 
is due to the fact that the concept of the subconscious 
as conceived by the German school was extremely vague, 
and had rather the character of a mechanical than that 
of a psychical process. An unconscious consciousness 
— that was their concept of the subconscious. In such 
a form as this the subconscious was certainly meaning- 
less — mere nonsense — and had to be given up. The 
German psychological investigations are now confined to 
the content of consciousness in so far as the individual 
is immediately conscious of it. But as this form of con- 

198 



Subconscious and Unconscious Ideas 199 

sciousness is extremely narrow and circumscribed, the 
results arrived at, though remarkable for their thor- 
oughness, are, after all, of a rather trivial nature. It is 
what James aptly characterizes as "the elaboration of 
the obvious." 

This criticism applies well to Freud and his adher- 
ents. Das Unbewusste is conceived as "Suppressed un- 
conscious idea-complexes." Of course, the claims of 
that school to originality and to the apparent unveiling 
of the causation of psychoneufosis are entirely unjusti- 
fied. A "suppressed complex" is but another term for 
a dissociated system, commonly accepted in psychopath- 
ology. The special theories developed by that school in 
regard to desire, to sexuality, and to voluntary suppres- 
sion of unpleasant or painful ideas are entirely gratuit- 
ous and false in the light of modern psychology and clin- 
ical experience. 

This psycho-analytic school has unfortunately fallen 
back on the Herbartian psychology with its metaphysical 
Reals or ideas which by their mutual tension keep 
suppressing one another, thus determining the dis- 
play of the contents of consciousness. As Her- 
bart tells us: "Concepts become forces when they resist 
one another. This resistance occurs when two or more 
opposed concepts encounter one another." This proposi- 
tion or principle proclaimed by Herbart is at the basis 
of Freud's mythical speculations. "A concept is in con- 
sciousness in so far as it is not suppressed," Herbart tells 
us, "but is in actual representation. When it rises out of 
complete suppression, it enters into consciousness." Ac- 
cording to Herbart and his modern followers, sup- 
pressed ideas become forces and impulses. Concepts 
which are not opposed or contrasted with one another, 



200 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

so far as they meet unhindered, form a "complex," a 
favourite term used by the psycho-analytic school and 
its followers. 

It may possibly be of interest to remark that Herbart 
is closely followed by the psycho-analytic school 
in regard to the doctrine of desire. Desire with 
Herbart is fundamental. "The faculty of desire 
must include wishes, instincts, and every species of long- 
ing." "The expression 'desire' must not be so limited 
as to exclude those wishes which remain, though they 
may be vain, or so-called pious wishes, and which, for 
the very reason that they do remain, constantly incite 
men to new efforts, because through them the thought of 
a possibility is ever anew suggested, in spite of all rea- 
sons which appear to prove the impossibility of attain- 
ment. It is very important to give the concept of the 
unattainability of the wished-for object strength enough 
so that a peaceful renunciation may take place of the 
desire. A man dreams of a desirable future for him- 
self, even when he knows it will never come." These 
Herbartian doctrines, long ago abandoned'by psychol- 
ogy, are now being revived by the marvellous, "scien- 
tific" psycho-analytic technique as a new discovery in the 
science of normal and abnormal psychology. No better 
criticism can be passed on this revival of Herbartian 
psychology in the domain of psychopathology than the 
one made by James : "I must confess that to my 
mind there is something almost hideous in the glib Her- 
bartian jargon about Vorstelliingmassen and their Hem- 
mungen (suppressions) and sinken and erheben and 
schiveben and V erschmelzungen and Complexionen 
(complexes.)" 

It is claimed by some of Freud's younger adherents 



Subconscious and Unconscious Ideas 201 

that the mechanism of "unconscious ideas," though a 
contradiction, is nevertheless justified, because of its 
being a conceptual construct, as Karl Pearson puts it, 
in order to aid the explanation of mental phenomena. 
This is a new epistemological argument in defence of a 
tottering system. It is truly amazing that science has 
nowadays become so philosophical that when a theory 
is unstable, it is unhesitatingly supported by epistemo- 
logical considerations. 

Perhaps it may be well to point out that self-contra- 
dictory hypotheses are not quite acceptable in science. 
A scientific hypothesis should at least have the merit of 
being rational, logical, and not conceived in a wild 
harum-scarum fashion. A good scientific hypothesis 
must have restrictions and definite conditions. I think 
it is Huxley who says that in the case of stolen goods 
two hypotheses are at hand: one hypothesis is that an 
angel is responsible for it, and the other that a thief has 
carried off the goods. The angel-hypothesis is hardly 
considered by science. In other words, the hypothetical 
causative agency must be conceived in terms of ex- 
perience. 

The hypothetical agency must either be a fact di- 
rectly observed in nature, or a fact which can be verified 
later on. Thus the theory of gravitation is based on 
the facts of falling bodies; the theory of natural selec- 
tion is based on the facts of the struggle for existence 
observed in the organic world. In short, a good scien- 
tific hypothesis must take as its causative agency a vera 
causa, a fact observable in experience, or a fact which 
can be verified by further experience. Atoms, electrons, 
ether, are not haphazard constructs; they are not re- 
garded by the physicist as unreal fancies, unreal abstract 



202 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

notions to explain the real facts; but each of these hy- 
pothetical agents is regarded as real, as a vera causa. 
We cannot help agreeing with J. S. Mill on the subject 
of hypothesis : "I conceive it to be necessary, when the 
hypothesis relates to causation, that the supposed cause 
should not only be a real phenomenon, something actu- 
ally existing in nature, but should be already known to 
exercise, or at least to be capable of exercising, an influ- 
ence of some sort over the effect. In any other case it is 
no sufficient evidence of the truth of the hypothesis that 
we are able to deduce the real phenomenon from it." 
Again, "What is true in [Newton's] maxim is that the 
cause, though not known previously, should be capable 
of being known thereafter; that its existence should be 
capable of being detected, and its connection with the 
effect ascribed to it should be susceptible of being proved 
by independent evidence." 

If we apply this very simple rule of logic to the theory 
of "unconscious ideas," we at once realize the illegiti- 
mate character of such a hypothesis. An idea is essen- 
tially of a conscious nature. To speak, therefore, of 
unconscious ideas, is to introduce into psychology the 
self-contradictory impossible concept of unconscious 
conscious ideas. This is equivalent to the assumption of 
an unconscious consciousness. An unconscious idea is 
neither a vera causa nor a fact ultimately to be verified. 
The conception of an unconscious idea is like the con- 
ception of a round square. 

Moreover, it is not true, psychologically, that ideas 
can be "suppressed" so that they become dissociated or 
"unconscious." It is not true that we suppress painful 
ideas into the "unconscious." We do not forget our 
painful ideas. On the contrary, painful ideas stand out 



Subconscious and Unconscious Ideas 203 

all the more prominent in our consciousness. Pain ham- 
mers experience into the mind. In fact we may say with 
more right that it is the pleasurable ideas that are for- 
gotten, while the painful ideas are remembered. An 
experience associated with pain is never forgotten. Like 
a splinter in the flesh, it remains in consciousness. It is 
due to other causes that a painful experience becomes 
subconscious. 

Teleologically, we can well see the importance of this 
fact. It would have been suicidal to the individual and 
ultimately to the species, if painful experiences were for- 
gotten. The individual must learn to avoid harmful ob- 
jects and hurtful stimuli. This can only be accom- 
plished by actually remembering painful experiences. 
That individual would survive who remembered best 
his painful experiences. Were it otherwise, the indi- 
vidual would be very much in the condition of the pro- 
verbial silly bird that hides its head at the sight of the 
hunter. The subjective painful experiences must be re- 
membered; a painful experience fixes the attention. 

On this fact of strengthening memory by pain was 
based the once universally recognized method of train- 
ing and education. What is fixed by pain is never forgot- 
ten. What may bring about forgetfulness is either 
a constitutionally bad memory, or a state of indif- 
ference, or an intense, paralyzing emotion of fear, 
especially in early childhood. The whole theory of 
"suppression" of painful "complexes" is based on 
false clinical and psychological assumptions. Neither 
is there such a process as "suppression of complexes," 
nor is there such a mental state as an "unconscious 
idea." 

Bergson, who as usual has his hand everywhere, takes 



204 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

up cudgels in defense of the unconscious. In his work 
"Matter and Memory" he argues that common sense 
assumes the presence of external objects, although it 
may not be directly cognizant of them. Being an ideal- 
ist and pan-psychist Bergson regards the nature of things 
as made up of images. If, then, he reasons, common 
sense believes in the existence of objects 'passed out of 
sight and sense,' if it affirms unhesitatingly the actual 
existence of not directly experienced objective images, 
there should be no difficulty in assuming the existence of 
subjective images, or of psychic states of which there is 
no consciousness. The argument is essentially meta- 
physical and will hardly have any weight with the psy- 
chologist or psychopathologist. 

Bergson's psychology is unfortunately so much satu- 
rated with metaphysics that many a valuable sug- 
gestion becomes lost in the haze and tangle of 
his speculations. The psychologist has nothing to 
do with the constitution of matter as it is 
in itself. This belongs to metaphysical ontology. The 
psychologist assumes matter as an external existence, 
and separates it from his own subject matter, — psychic 
states, mental processes, their elements and relations. A 
psychic state made up of 'images' after the fashion of 
'material images' with no consciousness to them ceases 
to be psychic in the psychological sense. From a psy- 
chological standpoint the term 'psychic' can only mean 
some form of consciousness, however vague and mar- 
ginal. Bergson's view would have probably been near- 
er the truth, if he had assumed the existence of a subcon- 
scious consciousness. 

An "unconscious idea" in the sense that the idea has 
no consciousness can have no meaning. If, however, by 



Subconscious and Unconscious Ideas 205 

an "unconscious idea" is understood a consciousness of 
which the individual or personal self is not conscious, 
then we come around to a subconscious consciousness, as 
developed by me in my various works. A quotation 
from Hoffding may bring out my point in a clearer and 
stronger light: 

"The question before us is, whether the unconscious 
can be other than a purely negative concept. In daily 
speech (and more than is proper even in the scientific use 
of the language) we use such expressions as unconscious 
sensations, unconscious ideas, unconscious feeling. As, 
however, sensations, ideas and feelings are conscious 
elements, the expression is in reality absurd. If by an 
unconscious idea is meant the idea which I have, then 
the predicate "unconscious" signifies only that I do not 
think of or pay heed to the fact that I have it. This use 
of the word unconsciousness is connected with a twofold 
use of the word consciousness. It is used to denote not 
only the inner presentation of our sensations, ideas and 
feelings, but also self-consciousness, the attention espe- 
cially directed to our sensations, ideas, and feelings. 
We have, of course, many sensations and ideas 
without being conscious that we have them, 
that is, without self-consciousness : many feelings 
and impulses stir within us, without our clearly 
apprehending their nature and direction. In this sense 
we speak, for example, of unconscious love. A man 
who has this feeling does not know what is astir in him ; 
perhaps others see it, or he himself gradually discovers 
it; but he has the feeling, his conscious life is determined 
in a particular way." 

In other words, what Hoffding practically claims here 
is that there is no such mental state, no idea that is 



206 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

"unconscious," but that there are mental states, ideas, 
feelings, which, though conscious, do not reach self- 
consciousness. In other words, there are in us mental 
processes which have consciousness, but no self-con- 
sciousness. This is precisely what I mean by the sub- 
conscious, — mental states which have consciousness, but 
do not reach the personal consciousness. In short, the 
only possible psychological assumption is a subconscious 
consciousness. 



CHAPTER XXIX 

THE SUBCONSCIOUS, CONSCIOUS, AND UNCONSCIOUS 

THOSE who accept the division of the sub- 
conscious into co-existing consciousness, or the 
co-conscious and the unconscious really as- 
sume the doctrine of the subconscious. They 
claim that it would be better and more precise to indi- 
cate whenever possible the conscious or unconscious, 
that is, the strictly physiological character of the ob- 
served manifestations. This, however, is more easily 
said than done. We know next to nothing of the physi- 
ological brain processes, which are mainly hypothetical, 
and we do not know the limits of the subconscious con- 
sciousness. In many cases it is not easy to determine 
what the exact character of the subconscious manifesta- 
tion is, how far it is conscious, dimly conscious, how far 
it has gone toward the development of an independent 
personality, and how far it shades in the direction of 
the purely physiological. In the absence of any exact 
determination, the term 'subconscious' indicates the char- 
acter of the mental state without any definite commit- 
tal to any of the possible hypotheses. 

The term "unconscious" is all the more objectionable, 
as Hoffding has already pointed out, it is essentially 
an ambiguous, negative concept. The "unconscious" 
may mean absence of self-consciousness, or lack of con- 
sciousness, that is, purely physiological processes with 
no conscious concomitant. He who uses the term "un- 
conscious" must in each case indicate in what sense he 

207 



208 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

uses the term. Is the manifestation entirely physiolog- 
ical, or is it conscious in the sense of consciousness with 
no self-consciousness? The two meanings are dia- 
metrically opposed to each other. The unconscious in 
the sense of the purely physiological assumes the theory 
of unconscious cerebration; the other use of the uncon- 
scious in the sense of mere consciousness with no self- 
consciousness recognizes the view of the subconscious- 
ness as advanced in my works. 

It is claimed again that in many cases of psychopathic 
maladies there is no need to have recourse to sub- 
conscious systems. It is quite probable that the associa- 
tion between the stimulus and the emotion called forth 
is a direct one. The patient who is afraid of dogs has 
the fear called forth by the sight of a dog. There is 
no need to assume that there are here any intermediate 
links in the chain of association. Even physiological 
links may be totally absent here. It may be that by 
investigation it can be shown that this association has 
a history based on some former experience. There is no 
reason to assume that the experience is functioning sub- 
consciously, whether consciously or "unconsciously," that 
is, physiologically. The dog and the fear have formed 
an indissoluble association, so that, as soon as the dog 
is perceived the fear is awakened. 

This, however, is rather a debatable subject, since it 
is impossible to tell in the case of purely physiological 
links, whether such are present or not. Thus, Hoff- 
ding says, "Not only may conscious results come from 
unconscious (subconscious) working up, but there may 
also be unconscious intermediate links in the midst of 
conscious work. Supposing the idea a to be linked with 
the idea b, and b again with c, then a will finally pro- 



The Subconscious, Conscious, and Unconscious 209 

duce c directly without the intervention of b. The inter- 
mediate links are often so numerous that they cannot 
be recovered at all or with great difficulty. Many psy- 
chological paradoxes and sudden suggestions have their 
explanation in this unconscious determining of conscious 
ideas." 

Wundt seems to maintain the same view: "The 
memory-process is especially predominant in those cases 
where the element of the new impression that gave rise 
to the assimilation is entirely suppressed by the other 
components of the image, so that the associative rela- 
tion between the memory-idea and the impression may 
remain completely unnoticed. Such cases have been 
spoken of as 'mediate memories' or 'mediate associa- 
tions.' Still, just as with 'mediate recognitions,' we 
are here, too, dealing with processes that are funda- 
mentally the same as ordinary associations. Take, for 
example, the case of a person who, sitting in his room 
at evening, suddenly remembers, without any apparent 
reason, a landscape that he passed through many years 
before; examination shows that there happened to be 
in the room a fragrant flower which he saw for the first 
time in the landscape. The difference between this and 
an ordinary memory-process in which the connection 
of the new impression with an earlier experience is 
clearly recognized, obviously consisted in the fact that 
here the elements which recall the idea are pushed into 
the obscure background of consciousness. The not 
infrequent experience, commonly known as the 'spon- 
taneous rise' of ideas, in which a memory-image sud- 
denly appears in our mind without any assignable cause, 
is in all probability reducible in every case to such latent 
association." It appears, then, that both Hdffding and 



210 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

Wundt acknowledge the presence of intermediate links 
in what appears to be a case of purely "immediate" as- 
sociation. 

In cases where the intermediate links are "un- 
conscious," in the sense of a purely physiological pro- 
cess, there is no criterion to prove the presence of such 
intermediate physiological links, and one may as well, 
from a purely psychological introspective standpoint, 
deny their very existence. On the other hand, if with 
Wundt, Hoffding and others we assume the presence 
of intermediate psychic links, there is no way of dis- 
proving them. It is quite probable that such inter- 
mediate links are present in every single case. The 
very fact that "unconscious" systems can be revived 
as memories or hallucinatory hypnoidic states would in- 
dicate their functioning when one of their components 
becomes awakened to activity. 

As an objection to the presence of intermediate psy- 
chic links Pavlow's experiments are brought forward 
to show that associations can be formed between re- 
mote stimuli and glandular secretions, for instance. 
Thus, a dog with a fistula in the parotid gland can be 
made to react with secretions to light or sound stimuli. 

This objection may be easily obviated by the consider- 
ation that we do not know whether there are or are 
not intermediate mental links between the artificial 
stimuli and the discharge of the glandular secretion. 
This consideration is all the more cogent as the remote 
stimuli can only give results, if persistently associated 
with food stimuli. If such association with food stimuli 
is absent, and new stimuli are associated with remote 
stimuli which give reactions through their associations 
with food stimuli, the result is inhibition of secretion. 



The Subconscious, Conscious, and Unconscious 211 

In other words, each new stimulus must be directly as- 
sociated with the original food stimulus. 

To quote from Savadsky's work carried out in Pav- 
low's laboratory: "Wasiliev and Mishtovt were the 
first to investigate conditions of inhibitions. At first 
the authors had in mind to develop conditional reflexes, 
not on the basis of the unconditional reflex (i. e. food) 
but on the basis of another conditional reflex (such as 
a sound or light stimulus giving secretion.) Their ex- 
periments were as follows : From time to time they as- 
sociated with the usual conditional stimulus another 
stimulus which had no relation whatever to salivary 
secretion, and this combination was not accompanied 
by the presence of the unconditional stimulus (food). 
By means of a great number of repetitions of such a 
combination, it was supposed to associate with the 
quality of the extraneous stimulus the quality of bring- 
ing about salivary secretion. It turned out, however, 
that such an arrangement of experimentation could by no 
means transform the extraneous agent into a conditional 
stimulus. In that way it became clear that the condi- 
tional stimulus, contrary to the unconditional, is not 
capable of communicating its property of bringing about 
salivary secretion. The fact is that the associative ex- 
ternal stimulus, when accompanied by the unconditional 
stimulus alone, becomes after a few repetitions a power- 
ful inhibiting agent." 

This clearly shows that the conditional reflex in the 
dog can bring about salivary secretions only when 
associated with the unconditional reflex. What it means 
is, that the dog on seeing a light or hearing the sound 
expects food, and hence the psychic stimulation of his 
salivary glands resulting in secretion. Pavlow's experi- 



212 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

ments and also the experiments carried out under his 
directions by his pupils clearly prove that there is no 
direct association between secretion and an external 
stimulus, such as light or sound, but that the secretion 
is brought about by an intermediate psychic link, namely 
the expectation of food. Thus we find that the work 
of Pavlow and his pupils, far from showing the possi- 
bility of formation of direct associations, really goes to 
substantiate the view of the presence of intermediate 
mental links in cases of apparently immediate associa- 
tions. 

As a matter of fact there is no need for us to estab- 
lish hypothetical, intermediate, unconscious or physio- 
logical links. The "unconscious" brain-processes are 
problematic entities and there is no way of getting at 
them. What we need to discover in cases of mediate 
association, and especially in cases of psychopathic dis- 
eases, is whether the intermediate links, or the original 
experience that brought about the trauma, or the state 
of dissociation is present, consciously, or subconsciously, 
or coconsciously. This is possible to test by hypnosis 
or by means of the hypnoidal state. In many such cases 
we actually find that the patient lives through the orig- 
inal experience either consciously in a hypnoidal state, 
or in a hypnoidic state, thus undergoing a mental experi- 
ence which is immediately forgotten or dissociated; or 
what is more commonly the case, the patient lives 
through the original experience subconsciously. But, 
whether conscious or subconscious, the mental state is 
not "unconscious," but is essentially of a conscious char- 
acter. In short, we deal here either with the personal 
consciousness or with the subconscious consciousness. 
Thus, all the facts of mental life, normal or abnormal, 
substantiate the presence of a subconscious consciousness. 



CHAPTER XXX 

THE THRESHOLD AND MENTAL SYSTEMS 

IT may be well to point out some principles, im- 
portant in many respects, but which at the present 
moment are of interest from a psychopathological 
standpoint. 
Living tissue can only be set into activity by stimuli 
of certain minimal intensity; should the stimulus fall 
below that minimal intensity, the living protoplasm does 
not react. This holds true of all cells, from the lowest 
to the highest, — from the bacterium and infusorium to 
the highly differentiated cell, such as muscle cell, or 
neuron. The reaction of the living protoplasm to the 
stimulus shows the irritability or sensitivity of the cell. 
This sensitivity has its physiological threshold, so that 
a stimulus falling below a certain intensity cannot call 
forth any reaction in the cell. The rise or fall of the 
threshold would mean an increase or decrease of the 
minimal intensity of the stimulus requisite to bring about 
a cellular reaction. By varying the conditions of sensi- 
tivity, such as mechanical, thermal, electrical, chemical 
and nutritional, the physiological threshold can be 
raised or lowered. 

The same holds true of a whole psycho-physiolog- 
ical system, — there is a threshold of sensitivity be- 
low which the minimal stimulus cannot fall, the 
latter does not awaken any reaction in the system. 
All the senses reveal the presence of such thresholds 
which are also present in the case of all the higher psy- 

213 



214 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

cho-physiological systems. If we term the stimulus 
which can just bring about a reaction in the system the 
stimulus threshold, we can say that a given system can 
only be thrown into activity by a stimulus rising in in- 
tensity above the stimulus threshold. Intensity of stim- 
ulus, then, is an indispensable condition of the function- 
ing of a psycho-physiological system. 

In highly differentiated cells, however, it is not only 
the quantity, or intensity of the stimulus that is to be 
considered, but also the quality. The visual sense or- 
gan is not affected by auditory stimuli nor can the audi- 
tory sense organ be affected by visual stimulations. Sim- 
ilarly, in the functioning of the higher psycho-physio- 
logical systems the quality of the stimulus should not 
be overlooked. Systems that remain inactive under 
one set of stimuli, however intense, will respond to 
another set of a different quality. 

The same holds true of that synthesis of mental sys- 
tems which we term moment consciousness, and which 
we shall treat in detail further on. To set the moment 
into activity, the moment threshold must be passed, and 
not only the intensity of the stimulations should be taken 
into consideration, but also the qualitative aspect of the 
stimuli. Ideas, emotion and feelings which apparently 
remain dormant at the action of one set of excitations 
will respond readily to the action of excitations of a 
different nature. Habits, habitual movements, habitual 
thought, depend entirely on the qualitative character of 
the excitations, on the combinations of special objects, 
circumstances and times. The quality of the stimulus 
is one of the important factors in the activity of a psy- 
chophysiological system, or of a moment consciousness. 

Besides those two factors of intensity and quality, 



The Threshold and Mental Systems 215 

another factor, that of inhibition, plays quite a role in 
the variations of the threshold. We are acquainted with 
inhibitions in physiology, such, for instance, as the inhi- 
bitions exercised by the pneumogastric nerve on the 
heart, or the arresting of the activity of glands or of 
the peristalsis by the stimulation of afferent nerves. We 
know also of central inhibitions, such as fear, distress, 
pain, acting as so many inhibitions on the peripheral 
organs and serving to arrest functioning activity. Sim- 
ilarly in mental life, complex as it is, the highly organ- 
ized psycho-physiological systems, with their concomi- 
tant moments consciousness, still fall under the same gen- 
eral physiological laws of inhibition. In the course of 
associative activity systems become organized into com- 
plex groups, into complicated systems or constellations 
of systems which, to maintain their functioning equilib- 
rium, keep one another in check or under inhibition. 

Such a formation of checks and inhibitions is 
just what takes place in the training and the edu- 
cation of the individual and the race. Every psy- 
cho-physiological system or moment entering into re- 
lations with other systems and moments is bound in the 
course of its associative activity to form inhibitions to 
its function by the direct influence of external or in- 
ternal excitations. In other words, there is a rise of 
threshold due to inhibitory associations. 

Inhibition and rise of threshold may also result in a 
different way in the process of association. We may 
possibly lay it down as a law, which plays no small role 
in the interaction of systems and moments, that in a 
series of aggregation of various systems or moments, 
forming a more complex organized whole, due to as- 
sociation and synthesis of the component systems, hav- 



2i6 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

ing various thresholds, the ones having the higher 
thresholds will raise the thresholds of the moments hav- 
ing a greater sensitivity. This, however, may be coun- 
terbalanced by the lowering of the moment threshold 
by associations with moments of great sensitivity, that 
is, with low moment thresholds. 

While on the one hand the inhibitions and the conse- 
quent rise of threshold go along with the complexity of 
systemic structure as well as with the increase of asso- 
ciative activity, both in extension and intension, there 
is at the same time an advantage gained for the sys- 
tem, inasmuch as it really has now more chances to be- 
come active, on account of the greater number of sys- 
tems with which it has become associated. The thresh- 
old of the associated system rises, but on the other hand, 
the chances for activity increase, while the liberation or 
discharge of energy with the consequent evil effects of 
extreme fatigue, exhaustion and ill nutrition is checked 
and guarded against by the inhibitions and the rise of 
threshold. 

What happens now when a psycho-physiological sys- 
tem becomes dissociated? The inhibitions become re- 
moved and the threshold falls. The system is no longer 
checked by inhibitions or by other systems, and hence, 
with a lowering of the threshold, becomes sensitive, re- 
acting to any slight, passing stimulus, manifesting or 
liberating all the energy it possesses until fatigue and 
complete exhaustion set in. From this vantage ground 
we can understand the fact of the extraordinary en- 
ergy which the dissociated subconscious systems mani- 
fest, so much so that the unusual energy appears almost 
supernatural, and has on that account been ascribed by 
the superstitious to diabolical possession. 



The Threshold and Mental Systems 217 

To quote from a former work of mine : 

"When a system present in the upper personal con- 
sciousness is to be disintegrated, the suggestion given 
should be kept out of the patient's personal memory. 
One can observe this fact clearly in post-hypnotic sug- 
gestions. If a post-hypnotic suggestion is fully remem- 
bered, it usually miscarries, — the suggestion loses its 
efficacy, and often comes up as a word-memory without 
the stringency of realization. When, however, am- 
nesia is enforced, the post-hypnotic suggestion is fully 
realized. A dissociated system present in the sub- 
conscious, when coming to the surface of the upper 
strata of consciousness, becomes manifested with intense 
sensori-motor energy. Dissociation gives rise to greater 
dynamo genesis. This principle of dynamogenesis is 
important; cases of so-called impulsive insanities and 
'psychic epilepsy 1 are really due to this cause. 

"A system entering into association with other sys- 
tems is set into activity, not only directly by its own 
appropriate stimuli, but also indirectly through the ac- 
tivities of the various systems associated with it. These 
associative interrelations bring about an equable and 
normal functioning activity, controlled and regulated 
by the whole mass of associated systems. The mass 
of associated systems forms the 'reductives' of each in- 
dividual system. In dissociated systems the controlling 
influence of the 'reductive mass' is lost and the result is 
an over-activity, unchecked by any counteracting ten- 
dencies. 

"This relation of dissociation and dynamogenesis is 
closely related to periodicity of function, with its con- 
comitant manifestation of psychomotor activity charac- 
teristic of all passions and periodically appearing in- 



218 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

stincts. Dissociated systems present impulsiveness, be- 
cause of lack of associated counteracting systems. The 
only way to diminish the overpowering impulsiveness 
with which the dissociated subconscious systems make 
an onset in their rush into the personal consciousness is 
to bring about an association with counterbalancing or 
inhibitory, controlling, conscious systems, to work the 
dissociate systems into the tissue of the personal, con- 
trolling consciousness which has to be fortified and de- 
veloped. 

"Physiologically, it may be said that a neuron ag- 
gregate, entering into association with other aggregates 
and being called into activity from as many different di- 
rections as there are aggregates in the associated cluster, 
has its neuron energy kept within the limits of the phys- 
iological level. A dissociated neuron aggregate, on 
the contrary, is not affected by the activity of other 
aggregates; it is rarely called upon to function and 
stores up a great amount of neuron energy. When now 
an appropriate stimulus liberates the accustomed en- 
ergy, the activity is overwhelming, and is very much like 
the eruption of an underground volcano, giving rise to 
temporary attacks, to 'seizures' by subconscious states 
of the whole field of the upper consciousness, — 'seiz- 
ures' which, being really of the nature of post-hypnotic 
automatisms, are generally mistaken for epilepsy, the 
attacks being regarded as epileptic manifestations, as 
'larval epilepsy,' as 'epileptic equivalents,' as 'psychic 
epilepsy.' With the restoration of the equilibrium of 
the neuron aggregate, with the synthesis of the associ- 
ated systems, a synthesis which can be brought about by 
different methods, the subconscious eruptions, the at- 
tacks, or 'seizures' vanish, never to return." 




CHAPTER XXXI 

THE PRINCIPLE OF RESERVE ENERGY 

E have pointed out the significance of inhi- 
bitions in keeping back the systemic neuron 
energy from fully being discharged under 
normal conditions of life, and we have also 
shown that the removal of inhibitions results in the full 
liberation of the accumulated neuron energy. This fact, 
so striking in the domain of recurrent psychomotor 
states, almost forces itself on the attention of the stu- 
dent of abnormal psychology. From such a funda- 
mental tact of abnormal mental phenomena, we may 
draw some conclusions in regard to mental life in gen- 
eral. For, after all, the laws of pathology do not dif- 
fer from those of physiology in general, the patholog- 
ical really being the physiological under special condi- 
^ons. The normal is either the usual, the habitual, 
the customary, or is, at best, an ideal construction of the 
variations of life more or less successfully adjusted to 
the conditions of the external environment. 

This adjustment, however, keeps on constantly shift- 
ing ground, continually changing the relative position 
of the normal and the abnormal. From this standpoint 
pathology is of the utmost importance in the study 
of organic life. The pathological being the normal 
out of place, the abnormal being the normal un- 
der special conditions, pathology that deals with 
the abnormal gives us a deep insight into the gen- 
eral laws of normal physiological activity. All the 

219 



220 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

experiments in physiology consist practically in the 
production of so many pathological conditions and 
states. When the physiologist makes injections, sections 
and stimulations by various agencies, what else does he 
effect if not the production of the pathological, in order 
to learn the physiological action of the various tissues 
and organs? In psychopathological studies we fol- 
low the interrelations of mental phenomena under 
special conditions; it is the physiological method 
of experimentation by production of pathological 
variations ; the conclusion arrived at in psychopathology 
should apply to mental life in general. What is this 
conclusion ? It is the principle of potential subconscious 
energy or, more briefly stated, the principle of reserve 
energy * 

The moment thresholds of our moment conscious- 
ness, or, put in physiological terms, the thresholds of 
our psycho-physiological systems, are usually raised, 
mental activity working in the course of its development 
and growth of associative processes under ever-increas- 
ing inhibitions with ever-higher thresholds. It is enough 
to compare the educated, the civilized, with the unedu- 
cated or with the barbarian and the savage, to realize 
the truth of our statement. On account of the threshold 
and inhibitions, not the whole of the psycho-physiolog- 
ical energy possessed by the system or moment is mani- 
fested; in fact, but a very small portion is displayed in 
response to stimuli coming from the habitual environ- 



*When this principle was formulated by me in a series of articles 
published in The Boston Medical and Surgical Journal for March 
and April, 1907, James sent me his article, "The Energies of Men," 
in which he developed a similar point of view, though on widely 
different lines. Nothing gives me more pleasure than to find myself 
in accord with the great American psychologist and philosopher. 



The Principle of Reserve Energy 221 

ment. What becomes of the rest of unused energy? // 
is stored, reserve energy. 

Biologically regarded, we can well see the import- 
ance of such stored or reserve energy. In the strug- 
gle for existence, the organism whose energies are eco- 
nomically used and well guarded against waste will 
meet with better success in the process of survival of 
the fittest, or will have better chances in the process of 
natural selection. The high thresholds and inhibitions 
will prevent hasty and harmful reactions as well as use- 
less waste of energy, unnecessary fatigue, and states of 
helpless exhaustion. Moreover, natural selection will 
favor organisms with ever greater stores of reserve en- 
ergy which could be put forth under critical conditions 
of life. In fact, the higher the organization of the indi- 
vidual, the more varied and complex the external envi- 
ronment, the more valuable and even indispensable will 
such a store of reserve energy prove to be. 

The course of civilization and education, by con- 
tinuously raising the thresholds and inhibitions, follows 
the line of natural selection, and keeps on increasing the 
disposable store of potential subconscious or reserve 
energy, both in the individual and the race. It is in this 
formation of an ever-greater and richer store of dis- 
posable, but well-guarded, reserve energy, that lies the 
superiority of the educated over the uneducated, and 
the supremacy of the higher over the lower races. 

Civilization and education are processes of economy 
of psycho-neural force, savings of mental energy. But 
what society is doing in a feeble way, natural selection 
has done far more effectively. What education and 
civilization are doing now on a small scale and for a 
brief period of time the process of survival of the fit- 



222 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

test in the ever-raging struggle for existence has done 
for ages on a large scale. We should, therefore, ex- 
pect that the natural reserve energy would far exceed 
that of the cultivated one. The brain and mind of the 
ancient German differed in nothing from his modern 
descendant, the German philosopher, and still what a 
difference in the manifestation of mental energy! The 
savage brain and mind do not differ from those of their 
civilized descendants, and still what an ocean of mental 
life separates the civilized man from his savage pro- 
genitor 1 

It is against the evidence of biological sciences to 
suppose that the acquisitions of the cultivated brains 
have actually been transmitted from generation to gen- 
eration. It is not likely that acquired characteristics 
brought about by social life will change so radically the 
brain in the course of some forty or fifty generations 
that separate the civilized man from his savage progeni- 
tor; and the trend of biological evidence hardly favors 
the transmission of such acquired characteristics. 

"There sits the savage," once exclaimed a friend of 
mine, an eminent neuro-pathoiogist, "with three quar- 
ters of his brain unused." Yes, there sits the savage 
with a brain far surpassing the needs of his environ- 
ment, harboring powers of a Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, 
of a Shakespeare, Goethe, Darwin, and Newton. The 
ancient German and Briton hardly differed in their 
mental powers from their contemporaries, the civilized 
Egyptian and Babylonian. What, then did those 
Aryan savages do with their richly endowed mental 
energies? Nothing. The mental energy was lying 
fallow, — it was reserve energy, — energy for future use, 
for the use of future ages of coming civilization. 



The Principle of Reserve Energy 223 

But what about the cultivated man? Does he suf- 
fer from neurasthenia, from nervous impotence, be- 
cause, as some would have it, on account of the strain 
of civilized life he has exhausted his store of nervous 
energy? One may well ponder over the significant fact 
that it is the neurasthenic, the "psychasthenic" who is 
doing the world's work. We must remember that civi- 
lization is but of yesterday, and that the reserve energy 
is hardly touched upon. 

In the treatment of the phenomena of psycho-physio- 
logical dissociation, in the protean symptoms of ner- 
vous and mental exhaustion, we should not forget this 
biological principle of reserve energy, and should make 
attempts to use it. In many cases the inhibitions become 
too heavy and the thresholds too high. We must loosen 
the grip of some of the inhibitions and lower the thresh- 
olds, thus utilizing a fresh supply of reserve energy. 

The treatment of psychopathic diseases should be 
based on this biological principle of dormant reserve 
energy. In many cases the inhibitions become too heavy 
and the threshold too high. We must loosen the grip 
of the inhibitions and lower the thresholds, utilizing 
a fresh supply of dormant reserve energy.* 

A similar train of thought was developed by Dr. S. 
J. Meltzer, in his excellent paper on "The Factors of 
Safety in Animal Structure and Animal Economy." By 
a striking series of instructive facts, Dr. Meltzer points 
out that "all organs of the body are built on the plan 
of superabundance of structure and energy." I cannot 
resist the temptation of quoting Dr. Meltzer's conclu- 



*The principle of reserve energy is of great importance in educa- 
tion. I hope to work out this subject elsewhere. I have also shown 
the importance of the principle of reserve energy in my work The 
Psychology of Laughter. 



224 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

sions at some length, because they so clearly elucidate 
our principle of reserve energy, which is all the more 
valuable, as Dr. Meltzer has formulated it indepen- 
dently on widely different grounds. "Of the supplies 
of energy to the animal, we see that oxygen is luxuri- 
ously supplied. The supply of carbohydrates and fats 
is apparently large enough to keep up a steady luxurious 
surplus. . . . The liberal ingestion of proteid 
might be another instance of the principle of abundance 
ruling the structure and energies of the animal body. 
There is, however, a theory that in just this single in- 
stance the minimum is meant by nature to be also the 
optimum. But it is a theory for the support of which 
there is not a single fact. On the contrary, some facts 
seem to indicate that Nature meant differently. Such 
facts are, for instance, the abundance of proteolytic en- 
zymes in the digestive canal and the great capacity of 
the canal for absorption of proteids. Then there is 
the fact that proteid material is stored away for use in 
emergencies just as carbohydrates and fats are stored 
away. In starvation, nitrogenous products continue to 
be eliminated in the urine, which, according to Folin, 
are derived from exogenous sources, that is, from in- 
gested proteid and not from broken-down organ tis- 
sues. An interesting example of storing away of pro- 
teid for future use is seen in the muscles of the salmon 
before they leave the sea for the river to spawn. Ac- 
cording to Mescher the muscles are then large and the 
reproductive organs are small. In the river where the 
animals have to starve, the reproductive organs become 
large, while the muscles waste away. Here, in time of 
affluence, the muscles store up nutritive material for the 
purpose of maintaining the life of the animal during 



The Principle of Reserve Energy 225 

starvation and of assisting in the function of reproduc- 
tion. This instance seems to be quite a good illustration 
of the role which the factor of safety plays also in the 
function of the supply of the body with proteid food. 
The storing away of proteid, like the storing away of 
glycogen and fat, for the use in expected and unex- 
pected exceptional conditions, is exactly like the super- 
abundance of tissue in an organ of animal or like an 
extra beam in the support of a building or a bridge — 
a factor of safety. 

"It seems to me that the factors of safety have an 
important place in the process of natural selection. 
Those species which are provided with an abundance of 
useful structure and energy, and are prepared to meet 
many emergencies, are best fitted to survive in the strug- 
gle for existence." 

Unusual combinations of circumstances, great radi- 
cal changes of the environment, often unloosen the inhi- 
bitions, and, overstepping, or lowering the thresholds, 
release some of the reserve energy. Critical periods, 
great dangers, wars, revolutions, often make man rise 
to the occasion, so that apparently insignificant and 
worthless individuals display an energy unforeseen and 
unsuspected, and which makes of them heroes and 
heroines. There is a rise in intensity and a qualitative 
change in the stimuli, an unloosening of some of the 
inhibitions with a consequent release of some of the 
bound-up reserve energy. 

In this respect wars and revolutions may be regarded 
as important factors in the manifestation of human po- 
tential energy. The Persian and Peloponnesian wars 
unloosened some of the energies of Greece, giving rise 
to great thinkers, scientists, and artists, having a lasting 



226 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

influence on the destiny of humanity. The constant 
wars and national misfortunes of the jews released 
their reserve energy making of them a race of proph- 
ets, apostles and martyrs, deeply affecting the course 
of human civilization. The wars of the Reforma- 
tion open a new era of free development of 
modern European civilization. The English, Ameri- 
can, and French revolutions have released new supplies 
of energies and have opened a new arena for the free 
development of political, social, and industrial forces. 
In our own times we meet with the example of the 
Japanese, who, under the strain of great national dan- 
ger, have released a reserve energy unsuspected in races 
of the Mongolian stock. 

Reserve energy becomes manifested under the influ- 
ence of radical changes in the environment, just as we 
have found that psycho-physiological systems react and 
start into function under the influence of special condi- 
tions and special appropriate qualitative stimuli. In 
the study of functional nervous and mental diseases, in 
the study of neurasthenia, or psychasthenia, hysteria, 
and insistent or recurrent mental states, one becomes 
more and more impressed with the fact that beyond the 
psycho-physiological limits of energy, available for the 
habitual adjustments to the ordinary external condi- 
tions of life, there is a vast store of reserve energy 
whose depths one cannot gauge. 

A us dem Kelche dieses Geisterreiches 
Schaumt ihm seine Unendlichkeit. 



PART II 
THE THEORY OF 

THE MOMENT CONSCIOUSNESS 



CHAPTER I 

THE MOMENT CONSCIOUSNESS 

WE must try to realize the precise meaning 
of the "moment consciousness," as a clear 
comprehension of it is of the utmost im- 
portance to psychology in general and to 
psychopathology in particular. 

In a former work I pointed out that "consciousness 
is not uniform, that of the infant differs from that of 
the adult; the consciousness of the brute differs from 
that of the man, and still they all belong to the genus 
consciousness." I also insisted on the fact that there 
is a confusion in the use of the term "consciousness," a 
confusion which almost amounts to what I may term 
as "the psychologist's fallacy." The fully developed type 
of consciousness characteristic of the adult human mind, 
namely, self-consciousness, is substituted for the lower 
forms, or for types of consciousness characteristic of the 
lower animals. The psychologist, and, especially the 
physiologist, when writing on psychological matters is 
apt, to substitute, either on account of the introspective 
method used or on account of lack of discrimination, the 
type of consciousness of the observer, namely, self-con- 
sciousness. 

No biologist, not even Loeb, will accept unrestrictedly 
the Cartesian view that consciousness, or the soul, or 
mind is the privilege of man alone, while all other ani- 
mals have no soul, no mind, no consciousness, they are 
complex reflex mechanisms, highly developed automata 

229 



230 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

with no psychic life to them. We must allow the fact 
that other animals low r er than man in the rungs of devel- 
opment possess some form of psychic life. The horse, 
the dog, the cat, the cow, the ant, the bee, and other 
animals have some form, however varied, of psycho- 
physiological activity, some form of mental life, how- 
ever different in type from that of man. Abnormal psy- 
chology discloses to us dissolving views of human con- 
sciousness, such as found in the various forms of insan- 
ity and in the various manifestations of psychopathic 
states, presenting conditions of all stages of dissocia- 
tion and disaggregation of consciousness. Psychic life 
is by no means uniform, there are many types of con- 
sciousness. 

We have pointed out above that synthetic unity is 
the essence of consciousness. Consciousness is not an 
association of independently existing ideas, images, feel- 
ings, and sensations. Mental events must form a unity, 
a synthesis in the total psychic life of some psycho-biolog- 
ical organization. Disconnected words of a sentence 
thought by a series of thinkers do not give rise to that 
unified mental process which goes to form the psychic 
experience of the meaning of the sentence. The words 
must be cognized by the consciousness of one psycho- 
biological organism. Ideas, images, feelings, emotions, 
volitions do not meet on independent ground, associ- 
ate, fuse and go to to form a unity, a new idea or feel- 
ing. Experiences in different minds do not combine 
and associate to form a new synthesis. Even the as- 
sociationist tacitly implies that the various associations 
of ideas and feelings take place in some one mind. 

In order to get some form of cognizance or some 
form of experience of sensations and ideas there must 



The Moment Consciousness 231 

be some one organic consciousness that experiences or 
lives through the psychic events. Thoughts, feelings, 
ideas, images, and sensations are occurrences in some 
one psychic individuality, a psycho-biological or psycho- 
physiological organism, an organism which possesses 
the living synthetic unity of consciousness. From a 
purely psychological standpoint we may term this living 
organic unity of consciousness — a subject. I use the 
term "moment-consciousness," or simply "moment" to 
indicate this synthetic unity of consciousness which con- 
stitutes the characteristic of the subject having the syn- 
thesis of mental experiences. This holds true of all 
psychic life, from the very lowest representative of men- 
tal life to the very highest, such as the self-consciousness 
of man. 

The subject, or the unity of the psycho-physio- 
logical individuality cannot be represented by a series, 
whether temporal or spatial, as a series ceases to be a 
unity, or a synthesis. For a series of independent events 
remains a series, while the synthesis or unity of the 
series is a superadded event. A series of psychic events 
must exist in and for some psychic unity or individuality 
which stands for the organic unity of consciousness, or 
for the synthesis of consciousness, no matter what the 
type of consciousness is, low or high, animal or human. 
This synthetic unity of consciounsess, no longer a series, 
is indicated by the term "moment" or "moment con- 
sciousness." There are various types of moment con- 
sciousness, according as there are various forms or types 
of synthesis. 

Psychic contents or states of consciousness are always 
found in connection with some individuality. That piece 
of bread lying yonder may awaken hundreds of mental 



232 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

states under different conditions and in various organi- 
zations. My friend sitting by my side sees it, so do I, 
and so does the child, so does the bird in the cage, so 
does the dog, and so possibly does the fly flitting around 
the table. The states awakened are no doubt different, 
but they are of a psychic character none the less. My 
friend and I may be conscious of the personal element 
along with it. We may think it in the form of owner- 
ship: "It is who thinks, who has the thought of 
the bread ;" but this is only one of the many forms un- 
der which the perception or thought of the bread may 
appear. One thing, however, is essential to all the 
states, different as they may be in their con- 
tent, and that is the fact that they belong to some one 
individuality which under certain special conditions may 
also be of the nature of a personality. The individuality 
may be of a high or of a very low type, it may be that 
of a man or it may be that of a fly, but it must be some 
one conscious being that synthetizes the psychic state. It 
is this one synthetizing consciousness that constitutes the 
essence of what we term "moment consciousness." 

The moment consciousness is the subject, the psycho- 
biological individuality, requisite in all psychic activ- 
ity. The psychic individuality cannot be regarded as a 
series of independent physical events. For it may be 
asked, for whom does that series exist and to whom is it 
presented? A synthetizing moment consciousness, both 
subject and content, is a fundamental assumption of 
psychology, just as space is that of geometry, and mat- 
ter and force that of physics and chemistry. This neces- 
sity of assuming a synthetizing moment consciousness 
becomes clearly manifested in the highest form of psy- 
chic activity, such as self-consciousness. For if self- 



The Moment Consciousness 233 

consciousness be reduced to a series, it may be per- 
tinently asked with John Stuart Mill, "How can a series 
be aware of itself as a series?" 

A moment consciousness must not be considered 
as something apart from its content; it does not exist 
by itself: it exists wherever and whenever psychic states 
are synthetized; it is the synthetized psychic material; 
mere synthesis without material is meaningless. On the 
whole, we may say that the moment consciousness is like 
an organism, it forms a whole of many constituent parts. 

In the moment consciousness we find psychic material 
synthetized round one inmost central event which in its 
turn may have a central point. It reminds one strongly 
of the cell ; although it branches out in all directions, it 
has always its inmost central point, its nucleus, nucleolus, 
and nucleolinus. While I am sitting here writing, I 
take in the many impressions coming to me : The sun- 
shine pouring through the window, the table, the tick- 
ing of the clock, the chair, the bookcase, and many 
other things in the room ; all of them are formed and 
synthetized into one, and as such they form a moment 
consciousness. 

They are not, however, indifferently grouped; 
their unity is an organized whole with a cen- 
ter, with a vital point, so to say. At the heart of the 
synthetized whole there is a central point, the grouping 
around which constitutes the individuality of the partic- 
ular moment consciousness. In my own case, the cen- 
tral interesting point is the paper on which I write the 
sentence just formulated, and is the inmost point, the 
principal idea under discussion which forms the nucleo- 
linus, so to say, of the whole moment consciousness. The 
most interesting or the most important experience forms 



234 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

the center of the moment. 

The same object which seemingly gives the same ex- 
perience assumes different meanings and is therefore 
really quite a different experience, according to the 
moment consciousness in which the perception or knowl- 
edge of that object is synthetized. These presently ex- 
perienced states, synthetized within the moment, form 
the matter, or what we may term the content of the mo- 
ment consciousness. The moment of consciousness will 
change with the changes of the synthetized content. As 
an official, I am now in my office doing my work, and 
the different experiences form one whole, an association 
of experiences, systematized and synthetized into an 
organic unity. As a family man, I am at home enjoy- 
ing the company of my wife, children, and friends, and 
once more the experiences are organized into the unity 
of a moment consciousness. Now I am climbing moun- 
tains and stand on the slippery edge of a precipice, now 
I enjoy a conversation with the child I love, now I 
take part in the excitement of the political arena, now I 
sit on the bench of the jury listening gravely to the cross- 
examination of witnesses in a murder case; all these 
are nuclei for the formation of different moments. All 
of these depend on the different central experiences that 
form the kernel for the moment consciousness. 

The central experience, round which all other 
experiences are grouped and synthetized, forms, so 
to say, the very essence of the given moment con- 
sciousness, and as long as this central experience remains 
unchanged in its position the new experiences are 
assimilated within the same moment consciousness. 
The moment consciousness, therefore, does not vary 
with the change of the content, if only the assimilating 



The Moment Consciousness 235 

nucleus remains invariable. Should, however, the con- 
tent vary so that the central experience is transposed and 
some other one occupies its place, then the moment 
consciousness itself is changed. In fact, we may have 
the content of the moment consciousness entirely un- 
changed; but if the central experience alone is displaced 
from its position, then the moment consciousness itself 
becomes changed in its nature. Thus, if as a traveller 
I climb the mountains chiefly for the sake of pleasure, 
and keep the scientific and aesthetic aspects in the back- 
ground, the moment consciousness will be entirely dif- 
ferent from the one where the scientific or aesthetic as- 
pects are in the foreground, and all other considerations 
in the background. The moment consciousness, we may 
say, is entirely determined by the leading central ex- 
perience. 

The content of the moment consciousness, however, 
is not confined to the presently experienced psychic states 
only; it embraces the past, it includes memory, that 
is, it synthetizes outlived moments. In my present ca- 
pacity of physician and working in the office, I may also 
include the experiences as traveller, as juror, as teacher, 
as companion, and as lover, but still the tone of this par- 
ticular moment consciousness is given by the duties 
)f my present occupation. The most vivid, inter- 
esting, and leading experiences form in this synthesis 
the nucleus round which all other experiences are crys- 
tallized and synthetized into one organic whole. We 
have here a series of moments, all of them being coor- 
dinated and contained in one synthesis of one moment 
consciousness. 

The members of this synthetized series are not 
of equal value nor are they qualitatively the same. 



236 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

The leading experience that constitutes the as- 
similating element of the given moment has reality, in- 
terest, and value, while others are only so much mater- 
ial support for the principal central experience. This cen- 
tral experience differs also from the other experiences 
synthetized in the moment consciousness by the fact that 
it alone, that is, the nucleus only, has the most vivid 
psychic states, sensational and perceptual elements, 
while the others may totally lack them. Other subsidu- 
ary synthetized moments are rather of an ideational 
character; they are what is called "reproductions," ideal 
representatives of formerly experienced, outlived mo- 
ments. 

The moment consciousness may contain moments that 
happened to emerge by the dynamic process of associa- 
tion, such as contiguity, similarity, or contrast. Each 
moment consciousness may become content for the next. 
Each successive moment consciousness may synthetize 
the preceding ones, contain them in an abridged idea- 
tional form, and may, moreover, recognize and claim 
them as belonging to- itself, and as being one with them. 
There may, in short, be various forms of mental unifi- 
cation, but one thing stands out clear and that is the 
nature of the moment consciousness. The essence of 
the moment consciousness is mental synthesis. 

If we take a cross section of the moment conscious- 
ness, and try to fixate it with our mental eye, we find a 
central psychic element round which other psychic ele- 
ments are crystallized. This central psychic element is 
prominent, vivid, forms, so to say, the vital point of 
all the states and gives the tone to the rest, forming a 
whole, one organized experience. The psychic matter 
that surrounds the luminous central point does not stand 



The Moment Consciousness 237 

in a free, more or less disconnected relation to the lat- 
ter, it is intimately related to the centre, and cannot be 
separated without destroying the moment as a whole 
and even the life existence of each particular constituent. 
The whole moment seems to form an organic network 
in which the other elements take their place, according 
to a plan. 

The structure of the moment may in this respect 
be compared to that of the cell. In the cell we 
discriminate the nucleus round which the protoplasm 
is grouped. The protoplasm is connected with the 
nucleus by a network, a cytoreticulum. The destruction 
of the nucleus affects the protoplasm and the destruc- 
tion of the protoplasm affects the nucleus. The two 
are intimately, organically interrelated by the common 
network, the general plan of their organization. 

A concrete example will perhaps best answer our pur- 
pose. Suppose the moment is perceptual and consists 
only of one percept. Now in the percept we find a cen- 
tral sensory element surrounded by other elements. This 
central element stands out prominently in the given 
psychic state, while the other elements are subordinate. 
Not that those elements are unimportant for the percept, 
on the contrary they are of the highest consequence and 
moment, they only lie outside the focus of the psychosis. 
Along with the focus those elements form one organ- 
ized whole. The intensity of the psychic state pro- 
ceeds from the periphery to the centre. The elements 
can as little be separated from the central element as 
the area of the circle from its centre. By removing the 
centre the circle will be destroyed and the centre will 
cease to be what it is. All the elements of the percept 
form one texture having the central sensory element as 



238 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

its nucleus. 

Integrated as all those elements are they are not, how- 
ever, of equal value and importance for the life exist- 
ence of the whole. The central sensory element is of 
the utmost consequence, it is the vital point of the whole 
experience. While the change or destruction of one or 
some of the subordinate elements may still leave the 
total moment unchanged, or but slightly modified, a 
change of the central sensory element or of the nucleus 
will profoundly modify all the other elements and their 
interrelation; and a destruction of the nucleus will des- 
troy the total moment. Like their neuron counter- 
parts, the moments may be regarded as being organized 
into groups, systems, communities and constellations, 
aggregates of greater and greater complexity. 



CHAPTER II 

TYPES OF MOMENTS AND MOMENT-THRESHOLD 

WE may discriminate the following types of 
moment-consciousness : 
I. The Desultory Moment, 
(a) The Absolute, 
(b) The Relative, or Reflex Moment. 

II. The Synthetic Moment. 

(a) The Simple Accumulative, 

(b) The Compound Accumulative. 

III. The Recognitive Moment. 

(a) The Synthetic, or Generic Recognitive, 

(b) The Specific, the Reflective, or the Synthet- 

ic Moment of Self-consciousness. 
The chief characteristic of the desultory moment is 
the lack of interconnection of the links of the psychic 
series. Each pulse of psychosis stands out as an isolated 
fact without "before" and "after." A moment of such 
a character has no reproduction, no recognition, no 
memory, and certainly no personality. The lower stages 
of this moment, the absolute desultory moment-con- 
sciousness are mere moment-content devoid of all or- 
ganization and substance. The higher forms of the des- 
ultory moment, those of the reflex moment-conscious- 
ness, have an elementary organization, but of such a 
fixed character that the series of manifestations, or of 
functioning remain completely isolated. Reproductions 
appear here for the first time in an elementary form, 
inasmuch as the recurrences of the moment leave the 

239 



240 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

latter unmodified; it is reproduction only on ac- 
count of the modifications produced in a higher 
observing moment. 

This moment has the germs of reproduction, but no 
recognition and hence no memory, no self-con- 
sciousness. The moment of the absolute desultory 
type may possibly be found in unorganized proto- 
plasm and in the lowest forms of the pro- 
tozoa. The higher forms of moment of the desultory 
type, the reflex moment, may be found in the lower 
forms of lowly organized life and in the lower struc- 
tures of the higher metazoa. 

The moment-consciousness of the synthetic type has 
its series of links interconnected. In each link the pre- 
ceding ones are synthetized. The recurrence of this 
type of moment, unlike the moment of relative desultory 
consciousness, is embodied in the structure and func- 
tion of the moment. It is in this type of moment that 
reproduction is for the first time cleaj ly and fully man- 
ifested. The moment is modified with each reproduc- 
tion; it accumulates more content with each recurrence 
and, as such, the synthetic moment may also be char- 
acterized as accumulative. 

This type of moment has reproduction, and the re- 
production is not only for the external observer, but is 
present and inherent through changes in the organiza- 
tion, structure and function of the moment itself. Mem- 
ory first appears in this type, but it is rather organic, not 
recognitive in nature. 

The more elementary form of this type of moment 
shows accumulations only along single lines of develop- 
ment. The lines remain disconnected. Sensory nuclei 
surrounded by secondary sensory elements do not 



Types of Moments and Moment-Threshold 241 

occur, and perceptual psychosis characteristic of the 
higher forms is absent in this stage of the synthetic mo- 
ment, which is therefore termed the simple accumu- 
lative moment of synthetic consciousness. It is only in 
the higher forms of synthetic consciousness, in the com- 
pound synthetic moment that perceptual life may 
be said to arise. 

In the compound synthetic moment, series along di- 
verse lines become severally compounded and sensory 
nuclei with secondary sensory elements make their 
appearance. But even here recognition is not pres- 
ent and hence memory may from a subjective 
standpoint be regarded as absent. The synthetic 
moment even in its highest phase of development 
lacks ideational life and is entirely devoid of self-con- 
sciousness. The higher invertebrates and the lower 
vertebrates probably do not rise in their psychological 
development above the higher form of synthetic con- 
sciousness, the compound synthetic moment. 

In the recognitive moment the series of reproductions 
are intimately connected as we find the case to be in the 
synthetic moment. The moment becomes modified with 
each occurring reproduction, containing in an abridged 
form the history of previous modifications. The 
mode of reproduction of the recognitive moment, how- 
ever, differs widely from that of the synthetic mo- 
ment. The content of the previous occurrence need not 
be actually reproduced, but only represented and any 
psychic element may fulfill this function of representa- 
tion. It is through such representation that the repro- 
duction of this type of moment is effected. Through 
representation the moment reproduces form and content, 
and cognizes over again immediately what it has just 



242 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

experienced, in short, it re-cognizes. 

Recognition is the function of representation and is 
the essential characteristic of this type of moment-con- 
sciousness. Ideational psychosis germinates and devel- 
ops with the growth of the recognitive moment. For 
the very function of the idea is the cognition over again 
of what has been cognized in perception, in short, rec- 
ognition is the essence of the idea. 

In generic recognition the time element is absent or 
but vaguely present. In perceiving the table yonder 
we also recognize it as table by classing the percept ta- 
ble with representations derived from previously per- 
ceived tables, but hardly does any time-element enter 
into this form of recognition, the idea of having gen- 
eric recognition does not refer to any percept experi- 
enced at some definite point of time. The recognitive 
moment uses the idea as a means to reproduce its form- 
er experience without actually living them over again. 
The representation in the lower form of moment is so 
bound up with the percept that the function of recog- 
nition is but implicit, and becomes explicit in the higher 
forms, when the ideational or representative elements 
become completely free and appear in mental trains, or 
in series of associated ideas. 

In its specific form, however, the recognitive moment 
also includes the time element. The moment-content 
or object generically recognized is classed or combined 
with a definite representation generically referring to 
perceptual experience; specifically recognized, the con- 
tent or object is placed in a definite point of the objec- 
tive schema of the flowing time series. The 
particular rose thought of now is the particular rose 
seen before, say yesterday. The idea of the rose 



Types of Moments and Moment-Threshold 243 

substitutes and represents the percept and has the 
function of the percept as reproduced, thus referring to 
the same object. That is why the qualitatively different 
representation is identified with the actual perception. 
What is common to the two is their reference to the 
same object, in all else they really differ widely. The 
recognitive moment that lacks the time-element is termed 
generic, while the moment that has time element in- 
cluded in the process of its recognition is termed spe- 
cific recognitive moment-consciousness. 

In the lower and simpler stages of the recognitive 
moment the generic form predominates, in the higher 
and more complex stages the specific form of recogni- 
tion arises and attains its full development. From a 
biological standpoint one can understand the import- 
ance and immense advantage in the struggle for ex- 
istence of those organisms whose moment-consciousness 
has varied in the direction of representation and has 
begun to reproduce after the mode of the recognitive 
type. To effect a modification and new adaptation to 
changes in the environment the moments of the desul- 
tory type have no other mode of modification but by the 
slowly working factors of spontaneous variations and 
natural selection, a process of adaptation and useful 
modification prolonged throughout the course of gener- 
ations. The adaptations of the different forms of the 
synthetic type are greatly facilitated, and the course of 
the process is so much foreshortened that it becomes re- 
duced to the life-existence of the given individual or- 
ganisms. The adaptations are brought about by the 
slow process of chance success and error, and the whole 
series of modifications must be fully and directly under- 
gone by the organism. 



244 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

The recognitive moments have reduced the time- 
elements of adaptations to changes of conditions 
in the external environment almost to a minimum, 
the series of reactions in the growth to most per- 
fect adaptations is effected in representation, saving 
itself the necessity of actually undergoing a series of 
intervening modifications. Representative elements, be- 
ing free, can enter into different modes of combinations, 
and thus form adjustments and adaptations with an ease 
of which the primary and secondary sensory elements of 
the lower moments do not admit. This freedom of 
movement in the formation of new representative com- 
binations is an important factor in organic life, as it 
gives the organism that possesses this variation an ad- 
vantage in the struggle for existence. Adaptation can 
be made for the future from the experiences of the past. 

In those forms of the recognitive moment in which 
the time-element plays a part in the determination of the 
whole there is always present a specific time-localization 
of the given psychic or moment content. Where the 
form of recognition is specific the representation or idea 
is regarded as actual and localized in some definite point 
in the stream of past time, where the recognition is gen- 
eric the representation or idea is referred to no definite 
point in the stream of objective time, and when present 
in the highest types of moments, is regarded as belong- 
ing to what is termed imagination. Recognition de- 
termines the place of the given experience in the series 
of events. 

In the lower stages of the recognitive moment no time 
element is present, in the higher stages some vague ref- 
erence to time may be present in the forms of specific 
recognition, but definite localization appears only with 



Types of Moments and Moment-Threshold 245 

the rise of the recognitive moment of self-consciousness. 
With the appearance of the conceptual schema of objec- 
tive time the specific form of recognition refers not only 
to a definite point on the scale of objective time, but to a 
definite mental synthesis localized on that objective time- 
schema ; in other words, the self-concept is involved in 
specific recognition, which therefore belongs to the high- 
est form of the recognitive moment, namely, the mo- 
ment of self-consciousness or of personality. 

In specific recognition the present self projects 
the bit of representative experience into the past 
self which is felt to be identical with the former in the 
series of selves to which the reproduction of the 
moment gives rise. The highest recognitive mo- 
ment, or moment of self-consciousness may be rep- 
resented as a series of selves projected in the time 
schema the preceding selves being synthetized by each 
succeeding self. From this standpoint we may regard 
such a moment as synthetic and term it the synthetic 
moment of self-consciousness. 

Should this series of reproductions constituting the 
history of the moment become dissociated and isolated 
through mental degradation and degeneration, then the 
form of consciousness becomes analogous to the desul- 
tory consciousness and may therefore be termed the 
desultory moment of self -consciousness. 

The functioning moments of a highly organized 
psychic being, at any point of time, present a hierarchy 
of moments differing not only in degree of con- 
sciousness, but also in the type of structure and 
function. Moments-consciousness from the lowest 
to the highest, from the simplest to the most com- 
plex, from the desultory type to the recognitive type 



246 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

of self-consciousness all are present in the adult stage of 
the most highly organized psychic life. Now in the 
series of moments going to form such a highly complex 
being, those that are of the recognitive type can become 
focal, while those that belong to the lower types can 
never enter the focus. The lower types of moment- 
consciousness, belonging to the groups and systems of 
reflex and instinctive activity, cannot, from their very 
nature, reach that level of consciousness and that degree 
of psychosis as to become qualified to enter into the 
focus of the moment of self-consciousness. 

From this standpoint, then, the subconscious may be 
divided into two regions, the one including all the mo- 
ments belonging to that of the recognitive type, the oth- 
er comprising all the moments belonging to the lower 
types. Within the subconscious, then, there is a thres- 
hold which the lower types of moments cannot pass. 
This threshold may be termed the threshold of recogni- 
tive consciousness. 

The moments lying above the threshold of recogni- 
tive consciousness may change in psychic intensity, may 
pass through all degrees of sensory intensity and repre- 
sentative vividness ranging from minimum to maximum ; 
they may sink and rise gradually or suddenly, but they 
do not and cannot fall, without becoming degenerated, 
below the recognitive threshold. Those moments that lie 
below the recognitive threshold cannot rise above it, they 
are condemned to remain in the obscure regions of the 
subconscious ; their fate is never to enter the strong light 
of the upper world of consciousness. At the same time 
their psychic intensity does not suffer any change, they 
do not shift forwards and backwards in the field of con- 
sciousness like the moments of the recognitive type ly- 



Types of Moments and Moment-Threshold 247 

ing above the threshold, they remain unalterable, they 
are fixed. 

In a certain sense the moments lying below the thresh- 
old of recognitive consciousness may be considered as 
dissociated from the upper regions, inasmuch as they 
lie outside the field of the upper consciousness. From 
the standpoint of activity, however, they stand in inti- 
mate relation to the upper level of consciousness. The 
highly organized moment uses the lower ones as instru- 
ments to carry out its purpose, and through them it also 
enters into relation with the external environment. 
Stimuli are received by the lower moments, and motor 
responses are once more given by these moments. In 
other words, the lower types of moments are in service 
of the higher moments. 

From a teleological standpoint one can understand 
the importance of it for the life-existence of the individ- 
ual. In order to save time and energy any activity that 
can be carried out by the lower aggregates is directly 
responded to by the less complex and more fixed mo- 
ments. The lowermost moments are the easiest to 
gain access to by the external stimuli, and in case the 
adaptation is simple the response immediately follows 
without any reference to higher aggregates. Should, 
however, the stimulus be under conditions where more 
complex adaptations are requisite then the next higher 
aggregate is set into activity. The ascending degree 
of complexity of aggregates set into activity grows in ac- 
cordance with the need of complexity of adaptation, un- 
til the most complex of all aggregates is reached, the 
one representing the complete organization of sensori- 
motor adaptations of the organism as a whole. 

At the same time it must be pointed out that there 



248 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

is a series of moments almost independent of this organ- 
ized hierarchy of moments, never falling under the 
sway, or but indirectly and casually being affected by the 
principal complex moment-consciousness; such are the 
moments that go along with functions, directly subservi- 
ent to the internal needs of the organism. This complex 
aggregate of moments from its very nature is withdrawn 
from the general control of the other aggregates, inas- 
much as it need not adapt itself to the varying condi- 
tions and different stimulations of the external environ- 
ment. The set of stimuli this aggregate responds to 
remains almost unchanged, hence their activity is of a 
low order, belonging to the character of the reflex mo- 
ments. 



CHAPTER III 

MODIFICATIONS OF MOMENTS IN THE ORGANIZED 
AGGREGATE 

IN pointing out the parallel in the series of mo- 
ments as they appear in ontogenesis and phylo- 
genesis, we must make some restrictions. The 
series of the subordinate-moments in the organiza- 
tion of a highly evolved and complex moment may be 
homologous to the phylogenetic series, but still the 
two greatly differ in character. Each moment in the 
series subordinate to the principal moment is greatly 
modified in its activity and, as such, differs in nature 
from the moment of the corresponding stage in the phy- 
logenetic series. A complicated act after a series of rep- 
etitions sinks into the subconscious, becomes degraded 
in character and falls to the level of the so-called "sec- 
ondary automatic" acts. This does not mean that in the 
phylogenetic or even in the ontogenetic evolution the 
moment occupying a parallel stage is of a secondary au- 
tomatic character, as it appears in the moment of higher 
organization. 

When the sensori-motor series going to con- 
stitute the secondary automatic act becomes well or- 
ganized, the links in the series fall to a minimum of psy- 
chic intensity, but the moment consciousness occupying a 
corresponding position in the scale of evolution has a 
higher psychic intensity than the one characteristic of 
the secondary automatic stage! The psychosis of a dog, 
horse, mouse, rabbit is hardly of the same order of 

249 



250 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

intensity characteristic, for instance, of the act with 
which one buttons his coat, opens his door, walks in the 
street, or simply maintains his equilibrium. The con- 
sciousness of the dog, rabbit or mouse may be and surely 
is of a lower order than that of a man, but its intensity 
is not necessarily of the same level with the automatic 
activity of man. 

The greater differentiation of elements in the highly 
constituted being is also their greater simplification. The 
lower a moment is in the scale of a highly organized 
being, the more differentiated it is, and the more simpli- 
fied is its function in the organic whole. Quite different 
is it in the case of the lower type of moment in the phylo- 
genetic series, there the differentiation has not proceeded 
far, and although it may be low in type and structure, 
the very lack of differentiation of function makes that 
lowly moment more complex as to function. A low 
moment of a high type of organization is lower than a 
high moment in a lower type of organization. A mo- 
ment occupying a low stage in a statically established 
hierarchy is really lower than a corresponding stage in 
either the phylogenetic or ontogenetic series. The high- 
est moment-consciousness of a fish is homologous with 
a very low moment in man, but the latter lacks the in- 
tensity to which the former attains. 

The moment by entering as a unit in an organized 
hierarchy becomes degraded and loses much of its 
psychic activity by becoming differentiated and con- 
fined to one mode of reaction, though reaching its acme 
of perfection in that direction. The number of func- 
tions present, though in an imperfect, undeveloped, 
sketchy way, in the representatives of the low type of 
moment becomes narrowed down, even limited to one 



Moments in Organized Aggregate 251 

function, highly developed and intensified in the lower 
representatives of moments belonging to a hierarchy 
organized on the plan of a higher type. 

If a, b, c, d, e . . . etc., represent the functioning 
modes of a low type of moment, then the total of func- 
tioning modes of the moment may be represented by the 
sum {a 1J rb 1J cc i -\-cl}+e l + . . . ), each function is in its 
first degree, that is, it is present in a primitive undevel- 
oped form. The low moment, however, forming a part 
of a highly developed organic hierarchy, becomes highly 
differentiated in the process of evolution of the whole 
and is finally reduced to the exercise of one function 
only, fully developed and intensified to its highest pitch. 
The number of functions then present in a primitive 
form in the moment of low type is in the course of evo- 
lution gradually sundered into its units, each unit reach- 
ing a high stage of perfection in the low moment be- 
longing to a high type of moment hierarchy. 

If a function in its primitive form is represented 
by a quantity, then the same or analogous function 
highly developed may be represented by the same 
or similar quantity raised to (« th ) degree. Now 
let a 1 stand for the primitive function, then a n will stand 
for the fully developed function. The number of the 
moment's functions is limited, but highly developed. 
The moment's functioning activities may be represented 
by the formula : a n +b u . The highest moment of 
the low type has a richer and more variable content 
than the lower moment belonging to the higher type. 
This truth can be still further realized by having re- 
course to the higher guiding moment-consciousness, the 
lower moments are shown there to work with an almost 
mechanical-like activity. Man, dog, or monkey with 



252 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

their spinal or medullary ganglia only fall lower than 
a fully developed fish or a full grown lobster. 

If we come to consider the moment of corresponding 
stages in the ontogenetic and phylogenetic series, we 
once more meet with resemblance, but at the same time 
with one of fundamental difference. The moment of 
high type that passes ontogenetically the stages of phylo- 
genetic evolution does it in a general, and, so to say, 
sketchy form, each stage of ontogenesis in reality funda- 
mentally differing from that of the parallel stage in 
phylogenesis. Just as the human embryo in the course 
of its growth and passing the stages that re- 
flect phylogenesis is not necessarily once a worm, then 
a fish, then a bird, but only approaches these types in a 
most general form, so also is it in the case of the moment 
in the different stages of its growth; it approaches the 
lower types of activity in a most general and sketchy 
form. 

The moment in phylogenesis is independent and is fully 
developed, while the corresponding stage in ontogenesis 
is but a stage in the growth of another and higher mo- 
ment, and as such is certainly different in nature from 
the phylogenetic moment. The embryo in the first 
state, though provided with gills, is still not a fish and 
could not live in water. The consciousness of the infant 
in passing through stages running parallel to the lower 
moments-consciousness does not temporarily become that 
particular low moment-consciousness. It is simply a gen- 
eral outline of the type of moment-consciousness that the 
higher moment is passing or a stage in the course of its 
ontogenetic development. 

The infant in the growth of its psychic life 
does not actually turn butterfly, fish, bird, monkey, 



Moments in Organized Aggregate 253 

savage, he does not really pass those modes of psychic 
states, but he passes through stages which in a general 
outline remotely resemble the lower grades of animal 
psychosis. All the stages are determined by the principal 
type of moment-consciousness, and, in reality, are not a 
series of low moments ending in a high type, but stages 
of growth of one high type of moment-consciousness. 
The stages through which the infant and child pass are 
the evolution of man. The moments of the low form 

develop on the type of a nJ rb n +c n + , while the 

moments of the highest forms develop on the type of 
(a+b+c+c+, . . . . ) n , a far more complex organization. 



CHAPTER IV 



MENTAL ORGANIZATION 



MOMENTS of the same type form aggre- 
gations in an ascending series of complex- 
ity, groups, systems, communities, clusters, 
constellations. Isolated moments are or- 
ganized into groups, groups into systems, systems into 
communities and communities into constellations. 
Groups are the simplest, while constellations are the 
highest and most complex of the aggregates. The firm- 
ness, the stability of organization stands in direct rela- 
tion to complexity, the more complex an aggregation the 
less stable it is. 

The order of complexity also represents the order 
of development, so that the more complex is also 
the latest to appear in the course of evolution. Evo- 
lution and stability stand thus in inverse relation. What 
appears early in the course of development is less firmly 
organized than what appears later on. The whole ten- 
dency of evolution is from stability to instability. The 
order of growth and instability is in the ascending scale 
— from groups, through systems, communities, to clus- 
ters, and constellations. The simpler sensori-motor re- 
actions are, both ontogenetically and phylogenetically, 
the first to appear in the course of evolution and they are 
also more stable than the more complex sensori-motor 
reactions. We can possibly best realize the relation of 
instability to complexity of structure, if we regard life, 
including both physiological and psychic processes, as an 

254 T 



Mental Organization 255 

ascending organization of sensori-motor reactions to 
the influences of the external environment. 

The sensori-motor reactions represent a hierarchy of 
organized aggregations beginning in the lowest re- 
flexes and culminating in the highest activity. 

An illustration of the lower reflexes may be taken, 
such as the knee-jerk, the action of the bladder, persistal- 
tic movements of the intestines, respiratory movements, 
heart-beats, and other organic activities. Association 
among these various reflexes may be taken as high- 
er aggregates. The complex coordination of ori- 
entation and space adjustment, such as the maintenance 
of equilibrium, walking, running, jumping, flying, swim- 
ming, etc., represent more complex activity. A still 
higher aggregate is to be found in the association of 
groups and systems of sensori-motor reactions within the 
sphere of a sense-organ with the complex coordination 
of motor adjustment of the whole body. The highest 
aggregates are to be found in the association of all the 
motor reactions organized within the different spheres 
of sense-organs with the complex motor coordination of 
body-adjustments. 

Simple sensori-motor reflexes, complex reflexes, sen- 
sori-motor coordinations, instinctive adaptations and in- 
telligent adjustments, statically regarded, correspond to 
the classification of psycho-motor aggregates into groups, 
systems, communities, clusters, and constellations. In 
other words, the study of the sensori-motor constitu- 
tion of the higher organized beings in their adult stages, 
reveals the presence and interrelation of moments. We 
find that the history of the use and growth of 
aggregates is in the order of their complexity. 
In ontogenesis we find that the simple reflexes ap- 



256 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

pear first, then the association, the more complex 
sensori-motor coordination, later on the so-called in- 
stinctive adaptations begin to appear, while the intelli- 
gent adaptations appear late in the course of develop- 
ment. 

The child at its birth is a purely reflex being; 
the different reflexes are not even associated, it is the 
medulla and the spinal cord that are principally active; 
the pupils react to light, the legs and hands react to 
more or less intense sensory stimuli, such as tickling, and 
sensori-motor reflexes to taste-stimuli are present. All 
of those reactions are isolated, incoordinated ; they are 
so many simple groups of sensori-motor reflexes, even 
the sucking activity of the infant is largely of the sen- 
sori-motor reflex type; the child at its birth is a spinal 
being, and its moment consciousness is desultory, con- 
sisting of the desultory activities of isolated function- 
ing sensori-motor groups. 

Later on the reflex activity such as of the hands, 
legs, eyes become associated through the develop- 
ment of sight and kinaesthetic sensations; the eyes 
can follow an object, the hands become adapted 
to the seizing movements. Movements and body- 
coordination then begin to appear, such as turn- 
ing the body to right or left, then sitting up, then 
creeping, standing, then walking, then talking, all 
involving more and more coordination of muscles and 
kinaesthetic sensations, aided by the association of sensa- 
tions and sensori-motor reactions from different sense- 
organs. It is late in its history of development that 
the child begins to gain full control of its actions and 
adjustment to the stimuli coming from the external en- 
vironment. 



Mental Organization 257 

The history of phylogenesis runs a parallel course. 
The lower organisms are purely reflex in their sensori- 
motor reactions, and as such, they belong to the type of 
the desultory moment-consciousness, such for instance 
as may be found in the lower form of the Mollusca 
as the class Tunicata. In the higher forms of Mol- 
lusca association of sensori-motor reflexes begins to 
appear. These associations become more and more 
complex with the rise and growth of differentiation of 
sense-organs in the higher forms of Mollusca and the 
lower Arthropodes, giving rise to groups, systems, com- 
munities, reaching the cluster-stage, in the higher Arth- 
ropodes and the lower Mammalia, finally culminating 
in the complex functions characteristic of the constella- 
tion-stage, such as found in the sensori-motor reactions 
of man in his adaptation to physical and social surround- 
ings. 

Each highly organized moment represents a hier- 
archy of many moments, but of lower types. The high- 
est constellation has at its command lower types of psy- 
chic aggregates, and had it not been for these lower 
moments, the higher type would have lacked matter 
and activity for carrying on its own work. 

The lower forms of moments, however, are subordi- 
nate to the higher type which constitutes the centre, the 
nucleus of the total psychosis. The other constituent 
moments, from the simplest to the most complex, are in 
the service of the highest type of moments, though the 
former lie outside the central focus of the principal con- 
trolling moment-consciousness. These lower forms are by 
no means to be ignored, since they form the main fac- 
tors that determine indirectly the moment's activity; they 
constitute the storehouse from which the central mo- 



258 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

ment draws its material. Without the lower moments 
the principal, controlling moment could not have re- 
ceived stimulations from the external environment, nor 
would it have been enabled to make proper motor re- 
sponses. In fact we may say that without the lower 
forms of moments, the moment-nucleus would have lost 
its vitality and even its meaning. 

The perception of an object and the proper adjust- 
ments to it depend not so much on what is directly pres- 
ent in the focus of consciousness, but on the wealth 
of accumulated material lying outside the moment focus. 
In reading a book, for instance, the handling of it, the 
motor adjustments in keeping it, the perception of the 
letters, of the words, of the phrases lie outside the focus 
of consciousness, and still it is this mass of perceptions 
that forms the matter of the controlling moment. The 
inventor in working on his particular invention has a 
mass of accumulated material and experience indispen- 
sable for the development of the invention, subconscious 
material lying in the background of his consciousness. 
Similarly the mathematician in solving his problem 
which forms the focus of his consciousness possesses a 
body of knowledge or a mass of material which, though 
it lies on the margin of his consciousness, forms the main 
stay of his particular investigation. 

There is more in consciousness than is actually di- 
rectly present in the focus of the moment. While I am 
writing these last phrases my consciousness is occupied 
with them alone, but they are supported by a body of 
subconscious thought. All our perception is largely de- 
termined by the results of our previous experience which 
falls outside the central point of consciousness. Many 
perceptual illusions find their explanation in habit. An 



Mental Organization 259 

otherwise novel experience surrounds itself with famil- 
iar experience which disguises the novelty and trans- 
forms the percept by substituting what is otherwise fa- 
miliar and habitual. 

This mass of familiar experience is not present 
in the focus of the moment-consciousness, it lies 
outside the centre and is often submerged in re- 
gard to the direct introspective scrutiny; it has, 
however, a powerful influence on the activity of 
the moment. The submerged moments, though lying 
outside the direct group of the main focus, still exercise 
a great influence on the course of the moment's growth 
and development. The conscious controls the material 
supplied by the subconscious, while the subconscious 
by the quantity and quality of the mass of its material, 
in its turn modifies and determines the course of con- 
scious activity. 



CHAPTER V 

THE GROWTH AND FUNCTION OF THE MOMENT 

WE may turn now to the study of the mo- 
ment's functions. This can be best investi- 
gated in following up its history, in watch- 
ing the growth and development of the 
most elementary moment-consciousness. In its perceptual 
stage the moment-consciousness may become modified in 
its subordinate psychic elements only, indirectly reacting 
on the nuclear sensory elements, giving a further determ- 
ination of the total moment without changing its funda- 
mental character. The moment may express then only 
more distinctly the final aim to which it is striving. The 
changes brought about in the moment are of such a 
nature that the latter in its whole tendency becomes 
adapted for reaction to the external environment, a re- 
action for which it primarily maintains itself in being. 
The moment as percept may have at first an inade- 
quate content which brings about a reaction inadequate 
for the purpose of the given psychic moment. The reac- 
tion brings more content, both primary and secondary. 
The new content enriches the moment and gives rise to a 
modification resulting in a reaction which in its turn 
further enriches the content, until a reaction results fully 
adequate to the purpose of the moment. The moment 
reaches for the time being its full maturity. To give a 
concrete example. A small puff-fish is thrown into a 
tank containing a hungry tautog. The tautog perceives 
the puff-fish and comes up to seize it; the puff-fish be- 

260 



The Growth and Function of the Moment 261 

gins to swell. The sudden swelling of the little fish 
frightens the tautog away. The tautog's reaction has 
proved unsuccessful. Some modification is being pro- 
duced in the tautog's state relating to the puff-fish yon- 
der. Another reaction may then follow, a sudden 
pounce and bite, the puff-fish swelling in the tautog's 
mouth. The tautog's reaction is once more a fail- 
ure, the puff fish is dropped, but considerably hurt. A 
series of similar reactions with a series of similar mod- 
ifications finally result in a totally different reaction. 
The fish by a series of sudden pounces and bites succeeds 
in debilitating the puff-fish, paralyzing its power of 
swelling and finally devouring it. A series of such repe- 
titions of experiences determine the general procedure of 
the tautog to the puff-fish. The tendency to a series 
of sensori-motor reactions may thus become organized. 

The chick emerging from the egg sees an object, say 
a caterpillar, and attacking the caterpillar misses it at 
first. This procedure enriches the chick's psycho-motor 
life and modifies its next reactions in relation to the cat- 
erpillar, until the whole moment of pecking at edible 
objects when presented to the eye consists of success- 
ful reactions, as the result of their repetition, finally 
ending in perfect organization. The infant in seeing 
an object makes at first fruitless attempts at seizing it. 
These futile attempts further determine his activity and 
finally he reaches a state when the adaptation is complete. 
The psycho-motor reaction becomes adequate to the 
stimulus. 

In all these cases there is no need that the growth and 
improvement of adaptation should be brought by ex- 
plicit processes of judgments and associations of free 
ideas. The fish, the chick, the infant have no distinct 



262 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

consciousness of what sort of psychic process is going 
on, nor do they deliberately after weighing the pros and 
cons of their actions, finally decide on one which is 
consciously to be rejected on trial and so on, at length 
hitting on the right solution of the problem. Such 
is not the state of their mind. To ascribe to them con- 
scious thought, cunning, knowledge, is to ascribe modes 
and forms of adult human consciousness to a lower stage 
where all this is absent. Their psychic processes are far 
simpler. The growth of the moment-consciousness in 
the stage under consideration is altogether different in 
nature from that of the adult stage. 

In the moment-consciousness under consideration each 
sensory response to a given stimulus along with its re- 
sulting motor reaction brings about a modification of 
the total moment. Each new modification brings the 
moment nearer in its sensory and motor elements, 
to a more perfect adaptation to the specific conditions 
of the external environment; this modification is repro- 
duced on the recurrence of the moment. 

Let a be the moment and b, b x , b 2 , b 3 , the successive 
modifications, then the modified moment at each stage 
of its growth may be represented as follows: a, ab, abb X} 
abb 1 b 2 ^ abbJ?.J? ? ,, etc. The reproduced successive mod- 
ifications do not emerge singly. The reactions of the 
moment do not occur in repetition of the order in which 
they have primarily followed each other. In other 
words, the reactions are not gone through in the order in 
which they have taken place. The series is not literally 
repeated. Each subsequent modification is super-imposed 
on the previous ones and modifying them becomes 
synthetized in a single complex reaction. The last suc- 
cessful reaction is the only one that emerges in the oc- 



The Growth and Function of the Moment 263 

currence of the particular stimulus under a given set 
of conditions. 

All the intermediate, unsuccessful reactions, al- 
though they have gone to determine the last state 
of the moment with its particular reactions and are 
implicitly contained in it, gradually drop out, and only 
the last forms of reaction occur. The last moment-con- 
sciousness at each birth generated by a given stimulus un- 
der appropriate conditions possesses in a vague outline 
the history of its previous stages. Most of the stages 
seem to drop out, only the ones that are indispensa- 
ble remain. 

The moment-consciousness in its growth and develop- 
ment expands into a series of moments, each subsequent 
moment being an expansion of the preceding one. In 
this expanded series each succeeding moment is richer 
in content than the one that has passed away, and is 
more adapted to the original end for which the moment 
as a whole subsists and maintains itself in the struggle 
for life. The last moment is an epitome of the preceding 
series, an epitome in which by adaptive selection many 
links have dropped out, and in which the ones that sur- 
vive appear not in their bare isolation, but in a synthesis 
of organic unity. 

In respect to synthesis the moment may be compared 
to the percept in which the moment-elements are not in 
a free state and cannot be separately reinstated. In the 
moment as in the percept the elements are firmly bound 
together, and in this bondage they are reproduced. In 
the psychic moment itself the previous stages are not 
discriminated, since the whole moment emerges as one 
compound in which the elements are firmly held together 
in a form of "mental-chemistry" by a process of cumu- 



264 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

lation, a process which, as we have pointed out, is es- 
sentially different from the process of association of 
ideas in which the ideal elements are free. 

A moment-consciousness lacking free elements in its 
constituents cannot know its own history; in other 
words, it cannot recognize the identity or similarity of its 
elements with the ones that have been present in a pre- 
vious state. The recognitive element is entirely wanting 
in such a type of moment-consciousness. A moment- 
consciousness of such a nature may be termed reproduc- 
tive. A reproductive moment-consciousness reproduces 
its contents, hut lacks the element of recognition. 



CHAPTER VI 

THE RELATION OF THE MOMENT TO THE ENVIRONMENT 

IF we inspect closely the reproductive moment- 
consciousness, we can discover in it definite traits 
specially characteristic of it. From the very char- 
acter of its organization the moment-consciousness 
is of such a nature as to be accessible to and at the same 
time affected by definite stimuli of the external environ- 
ment. The moment-consciousness itself is formed 
through the influence of stimuli coming from its en- 
vironment. The psychic states that go to make up the 
nucleus-content of the moment-consciousness are pri- 
marily sensory in character, due entirely to incoming 
stimulations proceeding from some external source. This 
is fundamentally true not only of the lowest and simplest, 
but also of the highest psychic moment. The infinite 
wealth of our experiences is of an incoming character 
derived entirely from stimulations coming from the 
periphery, or from the outside world. Even where the 
moment is ideal in character it is still originally derived 
from sensation. 

The nature and primary function of the moment 
is to be sensitive to stimuli. The origin of the mo- 
ment takes its rise in sensory responsiveness, and its 
growth is due to the formation of successive layers of 
sensory elements. The sensory characteristic is still 
further brought out in the fact of adaptation and pos- 
sibility of further modification of the moment. Psychic 
modification under the influence of external stimuli 
clearly demonstrates the important characteristics of 

265 



266 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

sensitivity. We may say that sensitivity, meaning by 
it psychic processes aroused by stimuli, is a fundamental 
character of the moment-consciousness, however ele- 
mentary. 

The moment-consciousness is not only sensory, but 
also motor in character. The whole purpose of the mo- 
ment's being is adaptation to external conditions. These 
adaptations, however, are brought about not by the mere 
sensitivity, but by motor reactions. If the moment shows 
sensitivity towards the play of definite external stimuli, 
it shows itself still more ready to give vent to its activity 
in definite sets of motor reactions. In fact we may say 
that primarily sensitivity is readiness for reaction. The 
stimulus that irritates the naked protoplasm of the 
amoeba results in movement of its pseudopodium. The 
irritation of the nerve endings of the ascidian or of the 
medusa results in the contractions of the muscular coat. 
In the more highly organized animals the excitation of 
the peripheral sense-organ results in contraction and re- 
laxation of muscles or secretions of glands. 

This is clearly manifested in the life-phenomena of 
invertebrates and lower vertebrates. The fly, the 
bee, the ant, the butterfly, the fish, the frog react 
immediately as soon as they are acted upon by 
influences of their external medium. In this respect 
they almost resemble highly complicated mechanisms 
that manifest definite sets of movements when acted 
on different parts of structure. Especially is this mani- 
fested in the lower centres. 

The fly, the ant, the bee, the butterfly, without their 
higher central ganglia are pure automata. Thus if the 
fly is deprived of its frontal ganglia, or head, it remains 
quiet as if dead, until it is stimulated, when a motor 
reaction immediately follows. If such a "headless" fly 



Relation of the Moment to the Environment 267 

is turned on its back, it rights itself, or flies some dis- 
tance, alighting on its legs, and again remaining in the 
same state until a new stimulus brings it out of its tor- 
por. If the thorax is stimulated, the front legs pass 
through the wiping movement. If the delicate hair on 
the lower part of the abdomen are irritated, the hind 
legs react. If the side hair are stimulated, the side legs 
respond, and so on. In short, the stimulus is followed 
by immediate reaction of the stimulated organ. 

With the central ganglion present, the fly differs but 
little as a reactive being, only the reactions are more 
complicated, more co-ordinate, more adaptive; they do 
not occur in a uniform and automatic fashion in the di- 
rectly stimulated organ, but in some other organs dis- 
tant from the stimulus directly applied and in a series of 
co-ordinate movements, responding to the stimulus in a 
form advantageous to its needs, or preservative of its 
life. 

In the frog we meet once more with the same state of 
things. Without its brain the frog is an auto- 
maton responding to external stimuli immediately with 
some simple set of movements. With its brain present 
the response differs only in the fact that it is more com- 
plex and more adaptive. The same holds true in the 
case of the higher vertebrates, in the bird, in the rabbit, 
in the dog, in the monkey, and also in man. When de- 
prived of the brain they are automata immediately re- 
sponding to stimuli with simple movements of but little 
adaptation. With their brain in full and healthy func- 
tion they are, biologically regarded, highly organized 
beings responding to external stimulations with com- 
plex movements of more or less perfect adaptation. 

Should we like further illustration and evidence we can 



268 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

find it not only in phylogenesis, but also in ontogenesis. 
Young animals react to any passing stimulus; their life 
is full of movement and activity. The movements are 
not adaptive to the special conditions of the environ- 
ment; in fact these reactions may often be of such a na- 
ture as to hurt and even endanger the life of the young 
animal. External stimuli simply liberate pent-up en- 
ergy in centres which are but little co-ordinated. In 
this respect of lack of co-ordination and adaptation 
young animals resemble vertebrates or invetebrates de- 
prived of their frontal ganglia. 

The restlessness of children and of infants is notori- 
ous ; in an infant under my observation, I have observed 
kicking of legs as many as 25-35 P er minute, and this 
was kept up for a quarter of an hour, sometimes for 
half an hour at a time; each kick of the leg served as 
a stimulus for another one, until fatigue was induced. 
An external stimulus at once calls forth a reaction in 
the child or the infant. The reaction is usually not 
adaptive, purposeless, and frequently hurtful. 

There are also purposeful reactions, reactions that 
are of a purely instinctive character, useful for the life 
and growth of the animal. These reactions, however, 
are, physiologically regarded, of a more complex re- 
flex character. Given a definite stimulus and a certain 
set of conditions, a series of reactions immediately fol- 
lows in a certain order and succession. Thus the aphis 
secretes its limpid drops of sweet juice, when its abdo- 
men is tickled by the antennae of the ant only. No other 
delicate tickling stimulations can bring about the reac- 
tion of secretion. The ant on seeing the aphis runs at 
once up to it and begins to play with its antennae on the 
abdomen of the aphis, and the latter on feeling the par- 



Relation of the Moment to the Environment 269 

ticular stimulations reacts in lifting up its abdomen and 
secreting the viscid juice. 

The white butterfly lays her eggs as soon as it 
comes in contact with stimuli coming from cabbage 
leaves. As soon as the change of temperature 
occurs, the migration instinct of birds is awak- 
ened. Young pointers are sometimes known to point the 
first time they are taken out. Young chicks disperse and 
show fright as soon as they hear an intense sound. In 
an infant of two days old I have observed protective 
grasping movements; the infant when immersed in the 
bath tub for the first time got hold and clasped firmly 
with his little finger the hand of the person that 
bathed him. Furthermore, the whole body assumed 
strained and rounded positions, lifting itself out of the 
water with which it came in contact; the infant was 
clinging with all its little strength to the hand that 
bathed him. 

The character of instinctive reaction is perhaps more 
closely manifested in the following interesting experi- 
ment performed by me on a very young infant. The 
infant was not more than three hours old, he was put to 
the breast and the nipple put to the mouth. The stim- 
ulus of the nipple in the mouth at once excited the physi- 
ological arrangement for sucking movement, an arrange- 
ment which the infant brings with him in a more or less 
ready state, on his coming into the world. When the 
infant had enough, the sucking movements ceased. The 
nipple was then withdrawn, and then put again into his 
mouth, the sudden fresh stimulus once more awakened 
the mechanism to activity, and the sucking movements 
began only to stop soon. This was repeated a few 
times, every time as soon as the stimulus was supplied 



270 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

the sucking movement began. 

The experiment was then slightly modified, the 
baby after ceasing its sucking movements was left 
keeping the nipple in its mouth, and instead of 
taking away the nipple and putting it back, thus 
enforcing the stimulus directly, some other stimuli 
were employed. The infant's legs were tickled, the 
skin of the body was rubbed, pricked in different places, 
and every time as the stimulus was applied the sucking 
movements were started. 

A few hours later when the baby became sensitive to 
sound, I tried the same experiments with sound stimuli, 
and obtained the same results. Sensory stimulations fol- 
lowed by motor reactions are the elements out of which 
moment-consciousness from the lowest to the highest is 
formed. If one aspect of the moment-consciousness is 
sensory, the other aspect is motor. The two aspects are 
inseparable, correlative. 

The sensori-motor relation is observed not only in the 
lowest forms of psychic life, but also in the highest. 
In the highest form of mental life we still meet with the 
same factor of motor reactions. Mental activity tends 
to pass into action. Psychic processes, motor and 
glandular reactions are interrelated. All along the course 
of mental activity reaction is present as its invariable 
concomitant. Some muscles are in a state of tension, 
others in a condition of relaxation. According to the flow 
and content of ideas, representation is now retarded, 
now accelerated. The functioning activity of the glands, 
of the vaso-motor system is influenced, the circulation 
of blood is affected, more blood rushing to the brain. 

This reaction aspect of mental life, and especially 
of affective, emotional life, can easily be demonstrated 



Relation of the Moment to the Environment 27 1 

by appropriate instruments. By aid of the sphygmo- 
graph, the tromograph, the pneumograph, the plethys- 
mograph, the automatograph, the galvanometer, and 
other instruments registering physiological results, it can 
clearly be shown that mental activity with its affective 
tone results in some end effect, muscular or glandular 
reaction. With a very delicate automatograph, or swing- 
ing pendulum, it can even be shown that the movements 
manifested often express the content of consciousness. 

This is especially striking in case of different 
forms of automatisms — in people who are of the mo- 
tor type. When the subject's hand is put on the 
automatograph, and the subject begins to think, the 
pen of the automatograph begins to move and write. 
When the person thinks of the left side of the 
room the movements swing to the left; when the sub- 
ject thinks of a series of definite movements, movements 
of a similar order and character are followed out by the 
pen of the automatograph. Subjects who are of a pro- 
nounced motor type when their attention is distracted 
write with the automatographic pen the ideas of which 
they happen to think at that moment. The remarkable 
experiments made by Pavlow and his pupils are here to 
the point. The experiments clearly prove the close 
interrelation of mental activity and glandular function. 

The reaction character of mental life is still more dis- 
tinctly manifested in the various forms of mental disso- 
ciation, such as are to be found in the psychopathic and 
neuropathic diseases and in the states of hypnosis, and in 
fact in all the phenomena belonging to the order known 
as the subconscious. Many of the most important meth- 
ods in psychology and psychopathology are based on 
this reaction aspect of the moment-consciousness. 



CHAPTER VII 

THE ASSIMILATION OF THE MOMENT IN NORMAL 
STATES 

THE fact that the moment-consciousness ex- 
pands, grows, and develops in its organization 
until it reaches a point of perfect adaptation 
to external conditions clearly shows that the 
moment is capable of working new psychic material 
into its constitution. The. material which it gets is of 
such a nature as to help to perpetuate the psychic 
life of the moment. The moment cannot possibly go 
on growing without having such material at hand. If 
the moment comes in contact with any psychic element 
or experience that can further its content, the experience 
is at once seized on and synthetized in the moment. The 
psychic element is not simply taken in and associated or 
annexed to the rest of the content, it is actually trans- 
formed in this process. 

When the moment is stimulated to activity by an ex- 
ternal object, the sensory stimulations of the present 
time-moment are new. Just these particular stimulations 
and sensory processes awakened have not occurred as 
yet in the life history of the animal, and still the object 
meets with its appropriate sensory response and motor 
reaction. The moment that has more or less like con- 
tent to the given new psychic experience aroused appro- 
priates the new states, works them into its own psychic 
content, and sends out its characteristic reaction in re- 
sponse to the stimuli. The moment that gets hold of 

272 



Assimilation of the Moment in Normal States 273 

new psychic material is ordinarily the one which is in the 
process of activity at the given time when the stim- 
ulations occur. The new material is absorbed by the 
moment as a whole, and is then assimilated by the func- 
tioning nucleus. The primary sensory elements of the 
nucleus become strengthened. 

At the same time the new sensory material ab- 
sorbed awakens some new secondary sensory ele- 
ments which are assimilated by the secondary sen- 
sory elements constituting the so-called protoplasm 
of the moment. In this absorption of new mate- 
rial the moment does not and cannot possibly remain ex- 
actly the same, it is modified in a degree, although the 
internal relations of its constituents may practically re- 
main unaltered. Readjustments may occur and usually 
do so, but they are made as nearly as possible to the old 
plan, and are assimilated to the old content. 

In the perceptual moment of the tautog that which 
constitutes its content may be the perception, say of a 
little fish yonder; soon, however, a new feature may arise 
in the course of experience, namely, change in color for 
instance in the case of the squid, or swelling in the case 
of the puff-fish. If the fish usually reacts in making at- 
tacks when receiving perceptive stimuli coming from 
small fish, and if the new experience is somewhat unusual 
in its ordinary life experience, and at the same time not 
so striking as to call forth the reaction of fear, the fish 
will still carry out its ordinary reaction of aggressive 
movement, slightly modified by the new incoming ex- 
perience. 

The chick in seeing a cinnabar caterpillar has the new 
experience of the different color from that of the cater- 
pillar on which it usually feeds, but the reaction is still 



274 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

the same which caterpillars call out in chicks, namely, 
seizing and pecking. The new experience of taste got 
through the reaction may further modify the reaction 
of the chicks when confronted with cinnabar caterpillar. 

The young infant pushes indiscriminately everything 
in its mouth, everything is for sucking, and only by ex- 
perience it learns gradually to modify its reaction to- 
wards objects. On seeing a lemon, a child that is only 
acquainted with oranges will take it as an orange. The 
child will perceive the new visual experiences given by 
the lemon, as different from orange, but they will be 
assimilated to his sensory orange experience. The spec- 
ial visual experiences will give rise in the child's mind to 
some qualification of the percept "orange," the object 
being a kind of orange, a bad orange. The reaction in 
relation to the lemon will then be of the kind relating to 
orange in general. This reaction will be of course mod- 
ified by repeated experiences resulting from a series of 
reactions in relation to the lemon. 

Savages confronted for the first time with the horse 
or the ox, consider them a species of pig, an animal with 
which they are well acquainted, and they expect from 
the horse, or the ox similar manifestations. Their re- 
actions towards those new species of animals will be of 
the same kind, as if those animals were pigs. 

The same relation is still better illustrated in cases of 
young children with a definite moment-consciousness, 
which for convenience sake may be characterized as the 
family-moment. The child's moment-content of life- 
relationship consists of his experience gotten from his 
relation with his papa and mamma. Baby, papa, and 
mamma and their various relations go to make up the 
total moment of the child's family life experiences. 



Assimilation of the Moment in Normal States 275 

When the child is confronted with young animals, the 
latter are regarded in the light of "babies," they are 
also babies, they have their papas and mammas who 
give them cookies, tea, and oatmeal, undress them, 
and put them to bed. 

A young child of about three years and a half 
asked me whether the baby-calf's mamma gave it 
pie to eat. Another time the same child on see- 
ing a young kitten inquired after its mamma and 
papa, and when the baby kitty was going to have its 
tea and put to bed. In one child of less than three 
years old, young animals, plants, such as young trees 
and flowers, and even little stars were so many "baby 
Willies." Their lives were fully assimilated to his 
own, they were eating oatmeal, drinking milk and 
were having tea, sugar, and biscuits for their supper. 
The same child was greatly surprised and partly even 
horrified at finding that baby-Willie-flowers had no 
papa and no mamma. The moment-consciousness is 
awakened by definite specific traits in the object, by 
familiar experience sense-data constituting the content 
of the moment; the rest and differential traits of the 
object are worked into the general plan and character 
of the functioning moment. 

The assimilative power of the m'oment is clearly re- 
vealed in the very character of perception. That 
pitted object yonder is perceived as an orange with all 
its attributes of color, shape, size, weight, fragrance, 
and taste. The synthesis of so many sensory elements 
corresponding to such a complex of stimuli was grad- 
ually effected in the course of ontogenetic development, 
and no doubt determined by inherited disposition of 
phylogenetic evolution. 



276 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

Suppose the orange turns out to be a new species 
never met before by the individual; it feels differently 
when touched, it has different weight, special taste, and 
fragrance. When such sense data are experienced re- 
peatedly, the percept orange is modified by assimila- 
tion of the new sense data. On seeing another time 
such a sort of an orange all the previously separately 
experienced sense-data appear together in one synthe- 
tized percept. The moment-consciousness which we, 
for illustration sake, have assumed as consisting only 
of experiences relating to oranges and with corres- 
ponding psycho-physiological reactions, has enlarged 
its content, has increased, and modified its adaptation 
to external conditions. 

The assimilative power of the moment-conscious- 
ness is well brought out in the activity of the higher 
form of consciousness. The desire to go to the post-of- 
fice to get my mail forms the central point of my present 
moment-consciousness. Round it as a focus are grouped 
ideas, feelings, and sensations, all more or less tending 
in the same direction. The actual walking to the post- 
office gives a series of new motor sensations which are 
subconsciously assimilated by the moment as a whole. 
The tactual and motor sensations coming from each 
step are assimilated by the moment, leading in their 
turn to new series of reactions. Each new step is fol- 
lowed by new sensations that give rise to new reac- 
tions and so on, until the end of the moment is reached 
and the purpose accomplished. 

The whole sensori-motor series is guided by the 
nuclear elements of the moment, although the succes- 
sive stages of the series are assimilated subconsciously. 
In reading a book the successive stages are guided by 



Assimilation of the Moment in Normal States 277 

the central general idea. The perception of the letters, 
words, and their isolated meaning is assimilated sub- 
consciously, all of them being incorporated into the 
guiding moment-consciousness which is growing and 
developing, becoming enriched with more and more 
content. In writing a letter or an article on a certain sub- 
ject we find the same fact of assimilation by the moment- 
consciousness of the sense-data coming in the succes- 
sive steps of the whole experience. The handling of 
the pen, the dipping it into ink, its guiding by the hand, 
its gliding over the paper, the drawing of the letters, 
the formation of letters into words, and of the words 
into lines and sentences, all follow in successive stages 
and are assimilated partly subconsciously and partly 
consciously. All are guided by the principal moment 
which grows richer in content with each successive step 
made, with each succeeding link of the series. In fact 
we may say that all those successive steps are stages in 
the growth and development of the one moment-con- 
sciousness. 

The growth and development of the moment-con- 
sciousness is through its assimilation of fresh psychic 
material. In the man of science a favorite theory ex- 
ercises such an assimilative power over facts other- 
wise disconnected. The moment-consciousness having 
the given theory as its nucleus absorbs more and more 
material, and with the assimilation of new material the 
content and strength of the internal organization grows 
in a corresponding degree. The assimilation is guided 
by the intense interest aroused by the nucleus of the to- 
tal moment, and is in its turn aided by the active pro- 
cess of assimilation, especially by the influence of sub- 
merged, subconscious moments which have reached 



278 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

the minimum of consciousness, or lie on the margin of 
the sphere of waking consciousness. 

The influence of the subconscious is in proportion to 
the duration and intensity of the activity of the mental 
process. We are well acquainted with the fact that an 
action requiring at first great stress of attention, finally, 
with its repetition, drops out of the focus of conscious- 
ness and becomes, as it is called, automatic or uncon- 
scious. They who have observed a child striving to 
stand by himself or beginning to walk realize how such 
seemingly automatic acts as standing or walking are 
at first accompanied with intense attention. The 
child, when standing up all by himself, does it hesitat- 
ingly; he shakes and trembles, as if occupying unsafe 
ground, or doing a difficult act; he looks around for 
support, stretches out his hands, asking the help of his 
parents or nurse, and if he does not get aid in time, 
begins to cry from fear and drops on all-fours. It is 
a difficult feat for him. Withdraw his attention from 
his performance, and in the first stages of his series of 
trials he drops helplessly to the ground. 

The same holds true in the case of walking. The child 
in beginning to walk, does it with great hesitation and 
fear. It can only be compared to the attempt of an 
adult in learning to walk a rope, or a narrow board on 
a high place. Each step requires intense attention. The 
least distraction of attention and the baby falls down 
in a heap. The least change in the touch, muscular 
and kinaesthetic sensations arrests the successful at- 
tempt at standing or walking. Thus in the case of my 
baby of fourteen months after the first two days of more 
or less successful trials at walking, a new pair of shoes 
was put on. This arrested the walking. When the 



Assimilation of the Moment in Normal States 279 

baby became accustomed to the new sensations which 
fell in the background of his consciousness, he once 
more started a series of trials, and with such success that 
after two days' practice he walked almost a whole mile. 

After a period of long practice the complex muscular 
adjustments, required in the acts of standing and walk- 
ing, gradually retreat to the background of conscious- 
ness and become automatic. Not that consciousness in 
those acts is lost: it has simply reached its necessary 
minimum, leaving the focus of consciousness free for 
other new and unaccustomed adjustments, which in 
their turn retreat from the centre to the periphery and 
fall into the subconscious. The usual movement of 
mental processes is from the conscious to the subcon- 
scious. 

Experiences, however, may first be perceived by sub- 
merged subconscious moments and then transmitted 
to the focus of consciousness, the movement of the 
process thus taking a direction opposite to the usual one, 
from the subconscious to the conscious. Experiences, 
for instance, lived through in hypnotic states, in trance 
states or in dreams, may come to the surface as hyp- 
noidal states and then become synthetized in the upper 
waking consciousness, or they may be lighted up in 
hypnosis, and then permanently synthetized in the cen- 
tre of attentive consciousness. 

Similarly experiences first lived through in the sub- 
conscious states induced by alcoholic intoxication or by 
anaesthetics may be brought by hypnoidal states or 
by hypnosis into the focus of consciousness. Hypnoi- 
dal states are uprushes of the subconscious, and by 
means of them many a hidden and obscure region of 
the subconscious may be discovered. Thus the Hanna 



280 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

case was largely marked by hypnoidal states. In many 
of my cases hypnoidal states are the means by which 
subconscious experiences become completely revealed. 
In cases of amnesia the hypnoidal states give glimpses 
into subconscious regions which even deep hypnosis 
can not reveal. 

The method of guesses is valuable in showing the 
reverse process of mental activity, the passage of r 
subconscious state into the focus of consciousness. 

If the anaesthetic spot of a psychopathic case is stim- 
ulated, the patient is unaware of such stimulation; 
should he, however, be asked to guess, or to tell any- 
thing that happens to come into his mind, he is often 
found to give correct answers. The patient perceives 
subconsciously. This perception, often in a slightly 
modified form, is transmitted to the upper conscious- 
ness, or to what for the present constitutes the patient's 
principal moment consciousness, or personality. 

If, for instance, the anaesthetic spot of the patient is 
pricked a number of times, the patient remains quiet and 
is seemingly insensible. Should we now ask the patient 
to tell anything that comes into his mind, he will say, 
"pricking" and will be unable to tell why he happened 
to think of "pricking" at all. Should we now ask him 
to give any number that may enter his mind, he will 
give the correct number, once more not being able to 
give the reason why this particular number happened 
to enter his mind, considering it a mere "chance num- 
ber." The subconscious sensations experienced are 
transmitted as abstract ideas to the focus of conscious- 
ness. 

Often instead of the particular idea being trans- 
mitted, only the general aspect of it reaches the focus. 



Assimilation of the Moment in Normal States 281 

Thus the patient is not able to guess the particular na- 
ture of the stimulus, but he may give the character of 
the unfelt stimuli. This reveals the reverse movement 
from the subconscious to the conscious. 

This reverse movement of the psychic state, from 
the originally subconscious to the upper consciousness, 
is well manifested in psychopathic cases of visual 
anaesthesia as well as hypnotically induced anaesthe- 
sia. The patient's field of vision is limited. If objects 
are inserted in any place of the zone extending from 
the periphery of the narrowed field to the utmost 
boundary of the normal field, the patient can guess 
correctly the names of the inserted objects invisible to 
him. General guesses are correct on the periphery 
of that "subconscious" zone. Some of the phenomena 
of paramnesia can be explained by this principle of 
reverse movement, when subconscious experiences 
transmitted to central consciousness appear under the 
form of "familiar" memories. 

A lighting up of the subconscious regions bringing 
about a reverse movement from the subconscious to 
the conscious can also be brought about by the use of 
toxic drugs. Pent-up neuron energies become liber- 
ated from lower and lower-most moment consciousness, 
long forgotten experiences well up to the centre of con- 
sciousness ; outlived moments are resurrected and come 
to the focus of consciousness with all the vividness of 
a present perceptual experience. Thus De Quincey, in 
his "Confessions of an English Opium-Eater," tells us 
that "the minutest incidents of childhood or forgotten 
scenes of later years were often revived. I could not 
be said to recollect them, for if I had been told of them 
when waking, I should not have been able to acknowl- 



282 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

edge them as my past experience. But placed as they were 
before me in dreams like intuitions and clothed in all 
their evanescent circumstances and accompanying feel- 
ings, I recognized them instantaneously." 

Hypnoidic states reveal the wealth and extent of 
psychic experience hidden in the subconscious regions. 
Glimpses into the subconscious are also given in hyp- 
noidal states which are induced by the process of hyp- 
noidization. The patient is asked to close his eyes and 
keep as quiet as possible without, however, making 
any special effort to put himself into such a state. He 
is then asked to tell anything that comes into his mind. 
The patient may also be asked to attend to some stimuli, 
such as reading or writing or the buzzing of an electri- 
cal current, and he is then to tell the ideas, thoughts, 
images, phrases, no matter how disconnected, that 
happen to flitter through his mind. 

This same condition of hypnoidization is sometimes 
better accomplished through mental relaxation with con- 
centration of attention in a definite direction. The pa- 
tient is put into a quiet condition, and with his eyes 
closed and the experimenter's hand on the patient's fore- 
head, the latter is urged to mental effort and strain, and, 
if necessary, given some hints. Experiences seemingly 
inaccessible flash lightning-like on the upper regions of 
self-consciousness. In all such cases the active mo- 
ment-consciousness seizes on and assimilates any cog- 
nate experience, conscious or subconscious. 



CHAPTER VIII 

ABNORMAL MOMENTS 

THE power of the moment's assimilation is 
well brought in the activity of abnormal mo- 
ments. Distressing thoughts, gloomy ideas, 
painful sensations, and feelings of depres- 
sion form a nucleus round which other mental states 
become firmly organized. A delusion arises which 
constitutes the moment-consciousness of the melanchol- 
iac. This moment assimilates all other cognate experi- 
ences. Everything that takes place is seized on by the 
moment and assimilated. The patient who believes that 
he has no intestines, or that he is made of glass and is 
transparent and hence hides himself from people, as his 
functions are open to the sight of outsiders, such a 
patient will make all experiences confirm and strength- 
en the delusion. The delusion constituting the predom- 
inant moment-consciousness in the patient's life absorbs 
and assimilates most, if not all of the material that 
gains access to the patient's psychic life. The moment 
like a cancerous growth expands, grows, and develops at 
the expense of other moments, starves them by cutting 
oft their mental food supply. What cannot be used by 
the moment is rejected as waste material. 

A similar state of affairs we meet with in paranoia, 
as well as in many paranoidal states of a purely psycho- 
pathic character. A moment-consciousness is formed of 
high organizing and assimilating power. Any experience 
relevant and irrelevant entering consciousness is greed- 

283 



284 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

ily absorbed and assimilated. Any flitting thought, any 
passing impression is worked in and organized into the 
moment. All other moments fall a prey to this domi- 
nant all-absorbing moment. 

In some cases the assimilating capacity of the mo- 
ment seems to be limitless. In fact, the more it assim- 
ilates, the greater grows its craving and capacity for 
getting more material. The most trivial facts, the 
slightest sense-impressions all are pressed into the ser- 
vice of the despotically ruling moment. The insignifi- 
cant becomes significant and points to the central delu- 
sion. 

In other cases the limit of the process of assimilation 
soon reaches its maximum point, more psychic material 
is rejected by the moment. Such conditions are to be 
found in various states of dissociation manifested in 
different forms of psychopathic diseases. The mo- 
ment's capacity for assimilating new material is of 
limited range, soon reaches its utmost bounds and loses 
for the time being all capacity for further assimilation. 
Such states may be found in amnesia. The moment is 
then said to be dissociated from the main current of 
psychic life-activity. Specific stimuli under definite con- 
ditions are requisite to resuscitate the moment and 
arouse its power of assimilation. 

It is certainly interesting and instructive to study the 
fluctuations of the moment's power of assimilation in 
abnormal mental states. In some forms of mental dis- 
eases and general psychic derangements the moment 
may be of ephemeral and unstable character; it may 
dissolve soon after its birth. Such conditions are 
to be found in various forms of maniacal states 
and in the initial stages of many cases of general 



Abnormal Moments 285 

paresis. 

In psychomotor manifestations of a psychopathic 
character moments-consciousness are often formed 
and dissolved like soap-bubbles. The investigation of 
them is of the utmost interest and value. In hypnosis 
moments of such a nature may be experimentally in- 
duced and studied. The whole process can thus be 
followed through all the stages of evolution and disso- 
lution. 

A greater condition of stability is to be found in the 
various automatisms preceding or following epileptic 
seizures, or in the so-called "psychic equivalents of epi- 
lepsy." The pure "psychic epilepsies" are essentially 
hypnoidic states, moments of stable character. This 
can be demonstrated both by observation and experi- 
ment. 

The principle of selection is fundamental in the life- 
history of the moment. The whole tendency of the 
moment is to select material conducive to the further- 
ance of its activity and to reject all material that 
thwarts its functions and growth. This process of se- 
lection is from a biological standpoint essential for the 
survival and development of the moment. 

The development of the moment may become ar- 
rested on some one stage of ontogenesis, and then the 
moment, belonging to a higher type resembles in its psy- 
chic activity that of a lower type; although it has 
many vestiges of the higher type, it is greatly modi- 
fied in nature and as such really differs from the 
healthy normal representative of the corresponding 
low type. Still we may affirm that the arrested high 
type has virtually become a moment of low type. The 
state of psychosis of the imbecile, or idiot, may be tak- 



286 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

en as a good illustration. The mental activity of the 
idiot resembles the lower types of animal psychosis. 
Although as we have already pointed out, the con- 
sciousness of the idiot and that of the animal are by 
no means identical, still both belong to a low type of 
moment, and as such, they may be put on the same level. 
In pathological cases where mental degeneration sets 
in we also have a similar course. The moment of the 
higher type becomes degraded and falls to the level of 
lower and lowermost types, according to the advance of 
the process of degeneration. Such states are to be 
found in the degenerative psychosis characteristic of 
secondary dementia. When the pathological process 
is wide, intense, persistent, and lasting, then secondary 
dementia results in most cases of mental degeneration. 
Should, however, the process become arrested then the 
moment simply falls to the level of a relatively lower 
type. 



CHAPTER IX 

MENTAL CONTINUITY AND THE PSYCHIC GAP 

THE activity of the moment-consciousness is 
continuous, without break and interruption. 
Should the activity become arrested and the 
break be seemingly absolute, continuity is 
still present with the resumption of activity. The 
thread is taken up where it was dropped, the moment 
appears as a whole without any break. There is no le- 
sion in the moment consciousness, at least as far as 
the moment itself is concerned. In going to sleep and 
waking up again we may be indirectly conscious of the 
interruption, but the activity of the moment is still 
continuous, the moment begins its activity at the point 
where it has left off. In fainting, in coma, in hypnosis, 
or somnambulism the periods of unconsciousness are 
immediately bridged over by the awakening activity of 
the moment. 

Objectively considered, we have the moment's ac- 
tivity, then break, or absence of that activity, and 
then the resumption; subjectively, however, the mo- 
ment's activity is felt as one and continuous with- 
out a break and gap. In consciousness the psychic con- 
tent and activity preceding the break along with pres- 
ent cognizance of the break are synthetized into a 
unified continuity; the present consciousness of the 
break is taken into the synthesis, the very gap thus 
forming the bridge for unity. 

The cognizance of the break may, however, be com- 

287 



288 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

pletely absent, and the edges of the mental wound 
may become closed, healed, and united with the 
functioning activity of the moment, the moment, 
without even the least consciousness of the in- 
tervennig gap, resuming its line of work precisely 
at the place where it had been arrested. From the mo- 
ment's own standpoint, the gap is as if non-existent, 
there is no break in the moment's psychic life-activity. 

The break formed by the interruption of the mo- 
ment's functioning activity, objectively regarded, may 
present an actual gap in which, for all intents and pur- 
poses, it may be supposed that no mental activity is 
taking place. Such cases are found in the state of 
deep sleep, undisturbed by dreams, or in the states of 
unconsciousness produced by toxic and narcotic agen- 
cies, in states of deep com'a, in the attacks of typical 
epilepsy, petit or grand mal, in status epilepticus, in the 
states of unconsciousness produced by intense mechani- 
cal stimuli, such as a blow, or a fall, or a strong 
electrical current. In all such cases we often find 
a state that may, for all intents and purposes, be 
characterized as unconsciousness. No other moment 
comes to the surface, even temporarily, to fill the 
mental gap caused by the interruption of the moment's 
functional activity. The gap presents a mental blank. 

To the important question: "How, then are we to 
explain amnesia where consciousness is indicated?" 
Ribot answers "By the extreme weakness of the con- 
scious state." This explanation is inadequate. For 
first of all, what is the meaning of a weak state of con- 
sciousness? Is it a state felt as being weak? If so, the 
explanation is obviously wrong. We may far better re- 
tain in memory the whisper of a dear friend than 



Mental Continuity and the Psychic Gap 289 

the striking of the tower clock or the explosion of a 
gun. Does he mean by a weak state of consciousness 
a confused indistinct state? Once more he is wrong. 
A confused and indistinct state of mind is often clearly 
remembered. I am dizzy, everything is confused and 
indistinct, I am unable to tell in detail what I have 
seen and heard, but I can clearly and distinctly remem- 
ber the state of dizziness and confusion, and very often 
far better than any other less confused mental state. 
This, however, is not the case in the states of amnesia 
under discussion. 

In amnesia there is no memory at all of the experi- 
enced mental states and what the subject or the 
patient remembers is the last link of the state pre- 
ceding the amnesia. The state preceding the am- 
nesia and the one succeeding it are joined together, 
the intermediary is left out, as if it had never been in 
existence. Evidently the theory is that the state of 
consciousness is so weak that it leaves no "trace," no 
memory behind. But if this be the case, then the ex- 
planation is a tautology. The problem is, why is there 
no memory in certain states of consciousness? To this 
the reply is that the states of consciousness leave no 
memory behind. It is obvious that this explanation is 
vague and when one tries to give to it a definite mean- 
ing, it is either wrong or turns out to be a reasoning in 
a circle. 

Granted, however, that a weak state of conscious- 
ness is something definite, that by it is meant to indi- 
cate confusion, indistinctness of consciousness, and 
granted furthermore, that such a state leaves no mem- 
ory behind, how then shall we explain amnesia of men- 
tal states when consciousness was intense, clear and 



290 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

distinct, as in the case of hypnosis or of artificial som- 
nambulism ? In these states the senses are almost hyp- 
eraesthetic, the sense of discrimination is extremely 
acute and memory is in a state of exaltation. Why is 
it then that amnesia can be enforced in the case of al- 
most any experience immediately after the trance is 
over, or even during the very state of hypnosis ? The 
state of consciousness is intense and still there is am- 
nesia. 

How is it in cases of double consciousness or 
of multiple personality? Surely the explanation of 
"weakness" of the states of consciousness cannot be 
advanced by any one who has a personal knowledge 
of these phenomena. How is it in psychopathic cases 
where the amnesia is brought about by an intense pain- 
ful state of consciousness, such as fright, fear or great 
grief? On the theory of weakness of consciousness all 
these phenomena are mysterious, incomprehensible. 
On our theory of moment-consciousness, however, the 
phenomena presented could not possibly be otherwise, 
in fact, we should expect them a priori, if our theory be 
correct. 

A psychic blank, however, is not the only possible 
consequence of the moment's lapse of function. The 
moment's activity is interrupted, but only, what is more 
often the case, to give rise to activity of another mo- 
ment. The break produced in the moment's life is 
not a real gap ; for the gap is filled in with the function- 
ing activity of another moment which is usually of a 
lower, though sometimes it may even be of a higher 
type. From the standpoint of the arrested moment, 
however, there is a distinct gap, not that the moment 
itself is cognizant of the gap, but it is so for the ex- 



Mental Continuity and the Psychic Gap 291 

ternal observer that takes that moment for his stand- 
point. The gap exists in the moment, though not for 
the moment. 

Such states may be found in hypnosis especially 
in that stage of it known as somnambulism. When 
the subject falls into a deep hypnotic state, it is 
possible to make him pass through a series of compli- 
cated actions, changes of personalities without the least 
awareness on awakening. The whole series of his 
waking consciousness it is as non-existent, in short, it is 
a gap. 

This gap however, is far from being a mere men- 
tal blank. On the contrary there may have been 
intense psychic activity, but only that of another mo- 
ment which in the waking state has become submerged. 
This submerged moment may be brought up in the 
waking state by suggestions or by means of hypnoidiza- 
tion and be synthetized in the upper consciousness. 
Sometimes glimpses of the submerged moment may 
come up in dreams, in reveries, in sudden flashes dur- 
ing the waking state, or in spontaneous hypnoidal 
states, the subject doubting whether they refer to some- 
thing actual or are simply mere whims and fancies. 

In the cases of the so-called "psychic epilepsy" which 
are really amnesia of a psychopathic character, one 
meets with psychic states in which the gap is not abso- 
lute, but relative, being filled with the activity of an- 
other moment. Thus, M. carried on conversations, 
arguments, and discussions while in the abnormal sub- 
conscious state and could not remember anything of it 
when emerging from it and returning to the normal 
condition. Similarly F. in his subconscious state trav- 
elled a distance, sold horses and returned, but knew 
nothing of what had taken place from the beginning to 



292 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

the end of his journey. 

In the H. case the gaps formed in the second- 
ary state by the manifestations of the primary state 
were as if non existent for this secondary conscious- 
ness. The same held good of the primary con- 
sciousness : the two were working independently of 
each other, each synthetizing its own experience, each 
beginning at the place where it had left off. Neither 
of them knew of and felt subjectively the gap. There 
was a gap, only it was filled in by another moment 
consciousness of which the present functioning moment 
was not aware. 

In cases of typical epilepsy subconscious states are 
sometimes found, states that constitute gaps in the ac- 
tivity of the normally working moment-consciousness. 
Thus in some cases of idiopathic epilepsy under my 
observation, the patients in the stuporous states suc- 
ceeding the epileptic attack answer questions, but do 
not recognize me, nor do they know the nurse who takes 
care of them, although they can remember and recog- 
nize other names mentioned to them. In their nor- 
mal state, however, they neither know of their attacks 
nor do they remember anything of the conversations 
and experimentations during the stuporous post-epilep- 
tic state. In other severe cases of epilepsy with fre- 
quent attacks of grand mal and petit mal, the patients 
during the periods of their stuporous post-epileptic 
states answer questions often mistaking persons and 
environment, referring to events and incidents of their 
early childhood. On emerging from their abnormal 
states, the patients are completely unaware of what 
had taken place, the epileptic attack with stuporous 
post-epileptic state forming a gap in the functional 



Mental Continuity and the Psychic Gap 293 

activity of his principal or upper moment-conscious- 
ness. 

If we look at the moment from its subjective stand- 
point there may be consciousness of the gap bridging 
over the edges of the mental lesion, or such conscious- 
ness may be altogether lacking, the psychic edges of 
the mental lesion being closely unified in the synthetic 
activity of the temporarily arrested, but now once more 
functioning moment-consciousness. If we look at the 
objective side of the gap, we find that there may be 
total absence of all mental activity, no other moment 
coming up to fill the place of the one that has ceased 
functioning, or another moment may take the place of 
the one arrested in function, seemingly fill up the men- 
tal gap, and become submerged with the restitution of 
the arrested moment's activity. Not that the gap is 
really filled up objectively or subjectively; it is like the 
close successive manifestations of different individuali- 
ties. The close observer can easily detect the arrest, 
the gap, the filling up of the gap with another moment's 
activity, and finally the restitution of the original tem- 
porarily arrested moment-consciousness. What is pre- 
sented to cursory observation is apparent continuity 
of mental activity. 

Mental gaps may be classified as follows : 

f Subjective (with consciousness of mental gap. 
I Standpoint (without consciousness of mental gap. 
Mental gap { 

I Objective /Absence of moment. tv{\oher 
I Standpoint \ Presence of moment ■< y ° ' 

When the principal moment becomes arrested in its 
activity and a new dominating moment takes it place 
in the formed gap, the type of the new moment is us- 



294 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

ually of a lower grade. The conditions that bring 
about an aggregation of moments are of such a nature as 
to allow of the activity of a high type of moment. Not 
appearing in the mental synthesis of the organization 
of moments characteristic of consciousness in the nor- 
mal state, the moment is poor in content and simple in 
nature. Falling as it does outside the complex normal 
aggregate of moments, the moment lacks the harmony 
and balance in its psychomotor and psycho-physiological 
reactions, since the counteracting balancing and hence 
regulative psychomotor tendencies of other systems of 
moments are wanting. 

A moment that enters into a highly complex aggrega- 
tion of moments, when stimulated to activity, sets also 
other moments into functioning, moments that are closely 
associated with it and often of different and even con- 
trary psychomotor and psycho-physiological reactions. 
Strengthening other systems against the lines of its own 
activity the moment is thus controlled, inhibited, and 
regulated in the very act of awakening to functioning ac- 
tivity. For it must be clearly understood that there is no 
special controlling agency somewhere in the mind send- 
ing out orders, mandates, inhibitions, like a despotically 
ruling autocrat, like a psycho-analytic censor, or like 
an omniscient, omnipotent, omnipresent, invisible deity. 
The regulative, inhibiting control to which a moment 
is subject is in the mutual interrelation, balance, and 
harmony of the systems and constellations of moments, 
entering into an aggregate, and forming the organized 
activity of a highly complex moment-consciousness. 

When a moment becomes dissociated and isolated 
from other systems of moments, it loses its balance and 
being freed from control, manifests its psychomotor re- 



Mental Continuity and the Psychic Gap 295 

actions in the full force of its original powers. The lack 
of control and the moment's energy of manifestations 
are just in proportion to the depth and extent of disso- 
ciation or of disaggregation of moments. Dissociation 
and over-action are co-related. 

The intimate relation of dissociation and over-action 
is clearly seen in cases of so-called "psychic epilepsy." 
The dissociated subconscious states manifest themselves 
with an over-powering activity, with an energy that can 
neither be resisted nor controlled, they come like irre- 
sistible, uncontrollable, imperative impulses, which are 
closely related to them in nature. If, however, these 
states are brought out from the hidden subconscious 
depth from which they make invasions; if they are 
brought to light before the court of the upper conscious- 
ness one by one in hypnoidal states, and are forced to 
become associated with and synthetized into the princi- 
pal moment-consciousness, the impetuosity and energy of 
their manifestations are gone. All my cases of dissocia- 
tion give experimental confirmation of this law of dyna- 
magenesis of dissociation. 

The dissociated cluster, although inaccessible 
through the ordinary channels of intercommunications, 
on account of the disaggregation of the aggregate into 
which it enters as a constituent part, may still be 
reached through other channels, coming from other 
moment-aggregates. For a moment, or a combination 
of them forms a constituent part not only of one ag- 
gregate, but of many other aggregates. Loss of com- 
munication through a certain channel does not neces- 
sarily exclude loss of all communications. If the lost 
channel is habitual, the activity of the seemingly lost 
moments may be awakened through unhabitual chan- 



296 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

nels. 

If the moment cannot be set into activity by the 
organization of constellations constituting the con- 
scious personality, on account of disaggregating pro- 
cesses, the moment may still be set into fuctioning ac- 
tivity through aggregates falling outside the focus of 
personality, but which work with that focus in close 
co-operation, namely the subconscious. In other words, 
in the process of disaggregation, conscious, or rather 
self-conscious experiences fall into the region of sub- 
conscious life; what is absent in personal thought may 
be present in impersonal, subconscious states. All psy- 
chopathic functional disturbances consist just in such 
an interrelation of mental aggregates; in the process 
of disaggregation of the self-conscious personality ag- 
gregates of moments drop out and fall into the domain 
of the subconscious. What disappears from attentive 
consciousness may fall into subconsciousness. The dis- 
aggregated moment, ceasing to enter into relations with 
the upper personal consciousness of the highly com- 
plex constellation, may still form a component of the 
lower aggregates of the subconscious. 



CHAPTER X 



THE MOMENT-THRESHOLD 



TAKING an initial stimulus with its concom- 
itant sensory effect as the starting point we 
add by degrees small unperceived stimuli un- 
til a point is reached when a barely percepti- 
ble change of the external stimulation is effected in 
consciousness. The sum of the differential stimuli up 
to the point where the perceptible change is produced 
is found out, and brought into relation with the quanti- 
ty of the initial stimulus. Working with this method 
of least observable differences Weber succeeded in ex- 
pressing the relation of the differential stimulus io sen- 
sation in the formula known as "Weber's law." With- 
in certain limits, no matter what the absolute value of 
the stimulus be, the differential stimulus, or what is 
the same the barely sensible addition to the initial to- 
tal stimulus, must bear the same proportion to the 
total stimulus. By many experiments Weber found 
that in the case of weight, for instance, the relation is 
one-third. Thus if the first weight be nine pounds the 
barely sensible addition will be one-third of nine, or 
three pounds; in twelve pounds the increment is one- 
third of twelve, or four pounds; in fifteen pounds the 
barely sensible increment is again one-third of the total 
stimulus that is one-third of fifteen, or five pounds, and 
so on. 

Further investigations have shown that, within cer- 

297 



298 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

tain limits, there is for all the senses which admit of ex- 
act measurement a constantly uniform quantitative re- 
lation between the stimulus and the just noticeable stim- 
ulus-difference. Experimentation by different investi- 
gators have confirmed "Weber's law" for the different 
senses by showing that, within a certain range of in- 
tensities of stimuli, there is a more or less constant ra- 
tio between the increase of the stimulus necessary to 
produce a just noticeable difference of sensation and 
the total stimulus intensity. Thus, it has been shown 
that noise stimuli must increase by one-third; pressure 
stimuli by one-fortieth; stimuli of muscular sensations, 
such as lifting weights, by one-fortieth; achromatic 
light stimuli by one-hundredth. Weber in his paper 
De Tactu expressed his law as follows : "In observan- 
do discrimine rerum inter se comparatarum non dif- 
ferentiam rerum, sed rationem differentiae ad magni- 
tudinem rerum inter se comparatarum percipimus." 

Gustav Theodor Fechner, the founder of psycho- 
physics and its methods, starting with Weber's law 
worked out a general formula for the quantitative re- 
lation between physical stimuli and sensations. As- 
suming that the just noticeable differences of sensation 
given by ascending or descending series of different 
stimuli to be equal units, he finds by means of different 
psycho-physical methods, first elaborated by him, the 
threshold of sensations or that stimulus which is just 
near the limit of giving rise to a sensory effect, but 
which is still not sufficient to awaken a sensation; in 
short, he finds the stimulus the correlating sensation of 
which is zero. 

The minimum perceptible or stimulus-threshold is 
found by measurements of the different senses. Thus 



The Moment-Threshold 299 

two parallel lines are for most people barely dis- 
tinguishable when the distance between them sub- 
tends an angle of less than 60 seconds. In the 
sense of hearing the vibrations recurring between 30-35 
per second are barely distinguishable. Below 16 vibra- 
tions per second no sensation of sound can be produced. 

Thresholds have been similarly determined for all 
other sensations. Thus the sense of touch, when tested by 
the aesthesiometer, an unsatisfactory instrument, gives 
the average for the tip of the forefinger about 1.65 mm., 
on the back of the hand about 16.0 mm., Sensibility to 
pain as tested by the algeometer varies from 10 to 15 
degrees. Sensitivity to smell varies with different sub- 
stances; thus for smell of garlic sensitivity varies in 
detecting 1 part in 44,000 parts of water to one part in 
57,000 parts of water; for oil of lemon from 1 to 
116,000 to 1 to 280,000. Taste can detect the bitter- 
ness of quinine in a solution of 1 part quinine to about 
400,000 to 459,000 of water; the sweetness of sugar 
can be detected in a solution of 1 part sugar to 200 of 
water; the taste of salt can be detected in a solution of 
1 part salt to about 2,000 parts of water. 

After discovering the zero point of sensation and 
the minimum perceptible he finds the constant ratio for 
the just noticeable difference. The minimum percepti- 
ble forms the unit of sensation. Each increase of the 
stimulus giving a just noticeable difference is counted 
as an additional sensation-unit to the total sum of sen- 
sations. 

Let A be the threshold giving sensation zero, and let 
r be the constant ratio of increase then we have the 
following series of stimuli and their corresponding 
sensations : 



300 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 



Sensation o is 


given 


by 


stimulus A 


i 


u 




" " (i+r) 1 


2 


u 




" " (i+r) 2 


" 3 


(( 




" " (i+r) 8 


" 3 


a 




" " (i+r) 8 


n 


(< 




« i« ( I+r )n 



Thus we find that while the stimulus increases in a 
geometrical ratio, the sensation grows in an arithmeti- 
cal ratio. The sensations stand therefore in the same 
relation as the logarithms to their numbers. Hence 
we may say that sensation increases as the logarithm 
of the stimulus. If S be the sensation, R the stimulus 
and C the magnitude of the constant ratio, then we 
have the following formulas : 

S=C log. R. 

This formula is known as "Fechner's law." 

Fechner's expression of Weber's law is rather ques- 
tionable. Fechner assumes that the just noticeable dif- 
ference of different stimuli are qualitatively and quanti- 
tatively equal, — a dubious assumption. A third of an 
ounce added to an ounce does not feel the same as a 
third of eighteen pounds added to the same number of 
pounds, or as nine pounds added to twenty-seven 
pounds. These units even, if they have a quantitative 
expression, do not stand in a simple quantitative rela- 
tion and are rather incommensurable. 

Furthermore, it may even be considered that Fech- 
ner's assumption is fundamentally wrong and unpsycho- 
logical. In opposition to the first elementary principle of 
psychology Fechner tacitly postulates that sensations can 
be measured and that one sensation or a complex sensa- 
tion is a multiple of another. Now the peculiar trait of 
the phenomena of mental life is essentially their qualita- 



The Moment-Threshold 301 

tive character. Sensations are not quantities to be meas- 
ured, but are essentially qualities. A strong sensa- 
tion is not a weak sensation many times over, but its 
very strength, its intensity is its own separate individ- 
ual quality constituting the essence of that particular 
sensation. An intense sensation of pure white is not a 
multiple of a weak sensation of grey just as the thought 
"nation" is not the thought "man" raised to the n^ 
degree. 

In psychological investigations one must be care- 
ful not to confound the nature of the physical stim- 
ulus with that of the sensation. A physical stimulus 
can be measured quantitatively, but a sensation does 
not consist of quantitative units, and hence, is not 
measurable. The only relation that can be measured 
and expressed quantitatively is that between stimulus 
and physiological process, the physical concomitant of 
psychic states. 

Whether or no we accept Fechner's statement of 
Weber's law we may safely assume that the threshold 
rises with successive stimulations. This law holds true 
of all life processes, from the life of an ameba to the 
life activity of a highly organized moment-conscious- 
ness. In the sphere of sensation we find such a rise of 
threshold. We are all acquainted with the fact that an 
additional candle or lamp, for instance, in a well light- 
ed room does not produce the same sensory effect as 
when brought into a more or less dark room. An elec- 
tric light in the sun is scarcely perceptible. An addi- 
tional ounce to a lifted pound does not feel as heavy as 
when raised by itself. A sound added to another sound 
or noise, sounds less loud than when appearing iso- 
lated, or when the same sound is breaking upon silence. 



302 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

The same relation holds true in the case of other senses. 

This same truth is still more clearly brought out in 
the fact that, if we take a certain stimulus as a unit, giv- 
ing rise to a definite sensation, then as we progressively 
ascend and add more and more units of the same stim- 
ulus, the intensity of stimulation is far from rising pro- 
portionately. If we take, for instance, the weight of 
an ounce as our unit of stimulation, then the successive 
moments of unit stimulations, that is, of ounces, will 
not give rise to as distinct and similar sensations as the 
initial sensation. The second ounce will give a sensa- 
tion fainter than the first one, and the third fainter 
than the second, and so on until a point is reached 
when the sensation of an additional ounce will not at 
all be appreciated, will dwindle away and almost reach 
the zero point. 

In the same way, if the pressure of a gramme 
is excited in the hand, successive increments of 
grammes will not in equal degree increase the sensory 
effect; the additional increments of grammes, though 
they are equal units of stimulation, give rise to fainter 
and fainter sensations, until finally all sensory appre- 
ciation of the added unit fades away and disappears. 
If the hand is immersed in water, say at the freezing 
point, an addition of ten degrees will be perceptibly 
appreciated, while successive increments of ten degrees 
each will be felt less and less, and finally will not be 
noticed and will be difficult to detect. In short, the 
threshold rises with the process stimulation. 

To bring about a sensory response of an already stim- 
ulated sense-organ the intensity of the stimulus must be 
relatively increased. This is what constitutes Weber's 
law. The continuous progressive sensory response of a 



The Moment-Threshold 303 

sense-organ requires a constant increase of stimulations 
which, within certain limits, bears a constant ratio to 
the total stimulus. This law is sometimes summed up 
by psychologists in the statement that "the increase 
of the stimulus necessary to produce an increase of the 
sensation bears a constant ratio to the total stimulus." 
Activity raises the threshold; it is the beginning of fa- 
tigue. 

The rise of threshold after stimulation holds true in 
the whole domain of biological activity. If the gas- 
trocnemius muscle of a frog, for instance, is stimu- 
lated by an electric current, the muscle, with each suc- 
cessive stimulation, responds less readily with a con- 
traction, and this becomes more evident with the on- 
set of fatigue. Pftefer, in a series of extremely inter- 
esting experiments, has shown that spermatozoids of 
ferns are attracted by malic acid, the progressive re- 
sponse of attraction of the cell requiring a constant in- 
crease of the degree of concentration of the acid, the 
increment of stimulations, as in the case of sensation, 
bearing, within certain limits, a constant ratio to the 
total stimulus. The threshold rises with each succes- 
sive stimulation. 

The rise of thresholds increases with intensity and 
duration of stimulation as we approach the state of 
fatigue. Through the influence of exhaustion, fatigue, 
or the influence of toxic, autotoxic, emotional, and 
other stimulations, the thresholds of certain moments 
have been raised so that ordinary or even maximal 
stimuli can no longer call out any response. When 
such a rise of thresholds is present the moments with 
raised thresholds can no longer enter into association 
with systems of moments with which they are usually 



304 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

associated, and the result is dissociation, giving rise to 
the great multitude of phenomena of functional psy- 
chosis with a subconscious background, the extent of 
which depends on the number of raised thresholds, on 
the extent of the dissociation effected. 

When a moment or aggregate of moments begins to 
function, it radiates stimulation to other moments or 
aggregates of moments. All the aggregates which 
these radiated stimulations reach do not equally be- 
gin to function. It will depend largely on the state of 
the aggregate and its threshold. If the radiated stim- 
uli be minimal, the many aggregates that have a high 
threshold will not be effected at all. Furthermore, 
many aggregates whose arousal could otherwise be 
easily effected by the given stimulus may temporarily 
be in a condition in which their thresholds have become 
raised and thus fall outside the sphere of activity of 
the functioning aggregate. On the other hand, aggre- 
gates that are usually inaccessible to those minimal 
stimuli may under certain conditions be set into activity 
by minimal stimuli, if there is a lowering of the thres- 
hold of the total aggregate. Thus the aggregates set 
into activity by the functioning aggregate are condi- 
tioned by the rise and fall of their thresholds. 

In case where the threshold of an aggregate is raised 
the radiated minimal stimuli coming from a particular 
functioning aggregate may become efficient and reach 
the threshold, when another aggregate begins to func- 
tion simultaneously. This holds true even in the case 
when the minimal stimuli, coming from two different 
aggregates are just below the threshold-stimulus. Thus, 
under certain conditions, when visual stimuli are bare- 
ly or not at all discernible, they can become intensified 



The Moment-Threshold 305 

by re-enforcing them with auditory stimuli. This is 
commonly found in the mode of recovery of some for- 
gotten name, or of some lapsed experience. We try 
to find the name and seek to come to it in one line of 
thought, but of no avail ; new lines are attempted, and 
finally the combined activity of the systems reaches the 
lapsed aggregate whose threshold has become tem- 
porarily raised. 

We find the same law further exemplified in the case 
of the infant under my observation. When with the 
nipple in his mouth the infant ceased nursing, the suck- 
ing movements could be induced again by stimulating 
some other sense-organ. The tactile, pressure, tempera- 
ture, and taste stimuli coming from the nipple in the 
infant's mouth became insufficient to stimulate to ac- 
tivity the functioning aggregate of sucking movements, 
on account of its raised threshold ; only additional stim- 
ulation could bring about a further functioning of the 
lapsed aggregate. This, of course, could also be effect- 
ed by making the tactual and pressure stimuli more in- 
tense, such, for instance, as shaking the nipple while the 
infant kept it in its mouth. This increase of intensity, 
however, mainly indicates that the stimuli were no long- 
er effective, and an additional stimulus was requisite, a 
stimulus that might come either from the same aggre- 
gate or from a totally different aggregate. 

In the many cases of post-hypnotic amnesia, we find 
the same truth further illustrated. In the deeper stages 
of hypnosis, from which the subject awakens with no 
remembrance of what had occurred during the state 
the lapsed memories can be brought into the upper 
consciousness by plying the subject with many ques- 
tions. During the trance or during the intermediate 



306 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

stages, with subsequent trance and suggested amnesia, 
the subject is made to perform a certain action, — to light 
and extinguish the gas four times in succession, or to 
open and close the door a certain number of times. The 
subject is then awakened from his trance; he remem- 
bers nothing of what has taken place. If he is asked 
point-blank whether he remembers any incidents of his 
hypnotic state, he answers with an emphatic negative. 
If now the subject is asked whether he knows how much 
two times two are or his attention is incidentally direct- 
ed to the gas or to the door, he at once becomes reflec- 
tive, the subconscious memories are on the way to surge 
up, and a few further indirect questions, the number 
depending on the depth of hypnosis, finally bring out the 
lost memories. The threshold that has risen at the end 
of the trance is stepped over by the combined effect of 
the many stimulations coming from different directions, 
and the subconsciously submerged moment or aggre- 
gate of moments surges up to the focus or nucleus of the 
upper consciousness. 

Once a particular moment is stimulated in its appro- 
priate way, it may go on developing, and usually does 
so by stimulating and setting into activity aggregates of 
moments associated with it, or may form new combina- 
tions of aggregates. The solution of a problem may 
present great difficulties, but once started on the ap- 
propriate line, the whole series of combination goes on 
unfolding, stimulating other moments and aggregates 
and forming more and more complex combinations. 
Thus, Archimedes, as the story runs, while in the bath, 
made the discovery of the law of specific gravity. Ac- 
cording to the popular account Newton was led to his 
discovery of universal gravitation by the accidental fall 



The Moment-Threshold 307 

of an apple. Hughes was started by the idea of sym- 
metry in his discovery of the laws of crystallography. 
Goethe was led to his conception of metamorphosis and 
evolution by a skull on the plains of Italy. Darwin by 
reading Malthus' economical treatise on population was 
inspired to work out the great principles of the strug- 
gle for existence and natural selection. Myers was led 
by the greater redness of blood in the blood-vessels of 
tropical patients to his grand conceptions of transforma- 
tion, equivalence, and conservation of energy. All these 
examples illustrate the fact that once a moment has 
been started it goes on developing by stimulating other 
cognate moments and aggregates to functioning activity. 

The same condition is also found in psychopathic 
borderland states, such as dreams. In dreams a peri- 
pheral stimulus gives rise to sensations that start the 
activities of moments, which in turn give rise to 
phantastic combinations of different aggregates. This 
phantastic combination of aggregates, giving rise to 
the functioning of otherwise unusual, or what may be 
termed abnormal constellations, is largely due to the 
fact, of redistribution of thresholds in the dream state. 

The dream state is characterized by a rise of 
the thresholds of moments and their aggregates 
that have been functioning during the waking states, the 
thresholds of these aggregates having been raised 
through activity. In the sleep state moments that have 
their thresholds relatively or absolutely lowered through 
inactivity, moments or aggregates that are unusual or 
have not been in use during the waking state, become 
aroused, and begin to function. Hence the arousal of 
hypnotic dream states reproducing long lapsed mo- 
ments of child-life, hence the phantasms of the world 
of dreams. 



CHAPTER XI 

THE PROCESS OF MOMENT DISAGGREGATION 

EACH stimulation leaves after it some mo- 
ment-disaggregation, a condition that makes 
further disaggregation more difficult. The 
more intense the stimulation is, the more ex- 
tensive and deeper is the disaggregation, and hence, 
the more difficult further disaggregation becomes. If 
the stimulation is continued or made highly intense, a 
point is soon reached beyond which no stimulation can 
pass without giving rise to disaggregation having as 
its manifestation the different forms of pathological 
mental dissociation. The pathological process under- 
lying the phenomena of abnormal mental life is not 
essentially different from the one taking place in nor- 
mal states. If difference there be, it is not certainly 
one of a quality, but of degree. 

The more intense a stimulation is, the more ex- 
tensive is the process of disaggregation, the higher 
mounts the moment-threshold giving rise to the dif- 
ferent phenomenon of psycho-physiological and psycho- 
motor dissociation. As expressed in a former work: 
"The process of disaggregation setting in under the 
action of strong and hurtful stimuli is not some- 
thing new and different in kind from the usual; 
it is a continuation of the process of association 
and dissociation normally going on within the function 
and structure of higher constellations. The one pro- 
cess gradually passes into the other with the intensity 

308 



The Process of Moment Disaggregation 309 

of duration of the stimulus." 

The process of disaggregation is a descending one, 
it proceeds from constellations to groups. Under the 
influence of strong stimulation such as mechanical and 
chemical agencies, and psychic affections, such as in- 
tense emotions of fear, anger, grief, anxiety, or worry, 
the degenerative process of disaggregation sets in, af- 
fecting first the higher aggregates and then with the 
continuity and intensity of the stimulations the process 
descends deeper and deeper affecting less complex ag- 
gregates, finally reaching the simplest aggregates of 
moments. The higher types of moments degenerate 
and fall to lower and lower stages of consciousness. 

The law of disaggregation as that of degeneration 
in general is from the complex to the simple. The low- 
er moments, on account of the simplicity of their organ- 
ization, are more stable, and are in a better condition to 
resist the disaggregating action of hurtful stimulations. 
Furthermore, the lower and simpler an aggregate of mo- 
ments is, the older it is, either phylogenetically or onto- 
genetically, and its stability is therefore more firmly as- 
sured by selection and adaptation. In the course of the 
life-existence of the individual and the species lower 
types of moments have come more often into activity, 
since the higher an aggregate is the later does it rise in 
the history of evolution. Hence moments that are not 
working smoothly and with little friction are continually 
weeded out. 

This same process is going on not only in the his- 
tory of the species by the eliminating action of natural 
selection, but also by the special adaptations brought 
about in the life experience of the individual. In phylo- 
genesis the best and most firmly organized instincts sur- 



310 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

vive, while in ontogenesis those habits are consciously or 
unconsciously selected which are most firmly established 
and are best adapted to the given end. At the same time 
the older an instinct is, the more thoroughly organized 
it becomes, the more is it enabled to withstand the on- 
slaught of external hurtful stimuli. The same holds 
true in the case of habits. A habit of long standing is 
well organized, and it is often extremely difficult, if not 
impossible, to control. 

Food instincts, sex instincts, social instincts, and per- 
sonal moral life from an ascending series both as to time 
of appearance in the history of the species as well as com- 
plexity of structure and function. Food instincts in 
time and simplicity precede sex instincts, and sex in- 
stincts in their turn precede social instincts which ante- 
cede personal, moral life. Now we find that the instabil- 
ity is in the same ascending line. Food instincts are more 
stable than sex instincts, sex instincts are more stable 
than social instincts which are more firmly organized 
than a highly unified personal life, guided by a moral 
ideal. The structure and functions of the system of 
alimentation remain unchanged for ages ; the sex instincts 
may become slightly modified for some period of time; 
the functions relating to social life vary from generation 
to generation, while the moral life guided by the moral 
ideal is highly individualized and personal. 

In the downward course of mental disease-processes 
the degeneration is from the complex to the simple, 
from the stable to the unstable, from the highly organ- 
ized to the lowly organized. In the different forms of 
mental diseases first the moral life, then the social in- 
stincts become affected, the patient becomes selfish, in- 
trospective, morally selfish, then loses all regard for 



The Process of Moment Disaggregation 311 

others, becomes careless, wasteful and negligent of his 
vocations, life-work, and duties; his whole thought be- 
comes concentrated on himself. In certain forms of 
mental alienation, such as melancholia and paranoia, 
the patient becomes suspicious of others, of his near and 
dear ones, becomes cruel and revengeful, sometimes 
ending by attacking his own friends and near relatives, 
and committing homicide. When the deterioration of 
personal moral life and social instincts is well under way, 
degeneration of other functions sets in, — the patient 
gives himself over to excesses, to all kinds of debauches, 
and indulges in the different forms of abnormal sexual 
practices. Only very late in the course of the disease 
are the food instincts in any way affected. 

Even in the lighter forms of psychic degenerative 
forms that lie on the borderland of mental alienation, 
such, for instance, as are present in the various forms 
of psychopathic maladies we still find that the same 
relation holds good. Moral life is the first to be af- 
fected. Social instincts, follow, while disturbances of 
sex and food instincts set in very late in the course of the 
pathological process of disaggregation and degenera- 
tion. 

In the mentally defective, such as in imbeciles, idiots, 
and cretins we once more find that our law holds good. 
The depth of the congenital mental degeneration is 
from moral to social, then to sex, and last to food in- 
stincts. In the imbecile, only the moral, social, and in- 
tellectual activities are affected, the imbecility being ac- 
cording to the depth of the degeneration, the other in- 
stincts are more or less normal. In the idiot and cre- 
tin the process of degeneration has gone still deeper 
and sex and food instincts with their psycho-physiologi- 



312 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

cal functions and psychomotor adjustments become af- 
fected, the idiocy being in proportion to the gravity of 
the affection. 

The phenomena manifested under the action of nar- 
cosis go further to confirm the same point of view. 
Moral, personal life is the first to succumb, other activi- 
ties follow in the order of their complexity and duration 
of function. In other words, the law of disaggregation 
or that of degeneration is from the complex to the sim- 
ple, from the highly organized to the lowly organized, 
from the least stable to the most stable. This stability 
is proportionate to the complexity of moment aggre- 
gates, and the frequency and duration of their associa- 
tive activity. 

In habits, formed within the life time of the indi- 
vidual, the same law holds true. Old habits become in- 
veterate, habits formed in childhood and perpetuated 
can hardly be eradicated, while those that are formed 
later in life become more easily dissolved. Complex hab- 
its formed in late life, relating to moral life and social 
intercourse, become dissolved at the first onset of the 
process of mental degeneration, while habits formed 
early in life, such as handling spoons, fork, and plate 
or dressing and buttoning the coat long resist the de- 
generative process. Paretics and patients of second- 
ary dementia in general, though far advanced on the 
downward path of degeneration, are still for some 
time able to attend to the simpler functions of life ac- 
tivity, such as dressing and feeding. Once more we 
are confronted with facts pointing to the same law 
that the process of degeneration of which disaggrega- 
tion constitutes a stage is from the highly to the lowly 
organized, from the complex to the simple. 



The Process of Moment Disaggregation 313 

If we observe more closely the history and stages of 
disaggregation, we find that, although the process it- 
self is going on within the centre or nucleus of the ag- 
gregate, the course of the process is inverse, from the 
periphery to the centre. This law is really a corrolary 
of the first law of degeneration. For the nucleus of 
the moment aggregate usually consists of moments that 
have early become organized, and round which more 
moments gather from all sides, the aggregate finally 
attaining a high grade of organization. The further 
away from the centre or from the nucleus, the newer 
is the formation of the strata of moments, and the more 
unstable is their structural and functional relationship 
within the total aggregate. Hence, when the process 
of degeneration sets in affecting the controlling nucleus, 
the associative ties of moments within the aggregate 
become lowered, and the newest strata, the most re- 
mote from the nucleus are the first to be affected, the 
process passing from newer to older strata. In other 
words, the process of degeneration is from periphery 
to centre. 

In the building up of a moment-aggregate the early 
deposits are less complex than the later deposits which 
are not as yet well organized by use and adaptation. 
The child under my observation learned early that the 
shining point yonder in the "ky" (sky) is 'Venu(s) 
the (s) tar," and when absent it is "hidden by a 
c(l)oud." This knowledge is certainly extremely 
meagre, but still it forms the nucleus round which grad- 
ually more knowledge will become formed and organ- 
ized. The child will learn the dimensions of the plan- 
et, its distance from the earth, its orbit, its relation as 
a member within the solar system, relations that may 



314 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

be extended endlessly, making the whole moment-ag- 
gregate more and more highly complex and unstable. 

If we turn to motor adaptations, we find a similar 
course of development. It took the infant time before 
out of the aimless series of spontaneous motor reactions 
some definite adaptations emerged relative to external 
visual stimuli, so that he learned to grasp the object 
yonder. These grasping motor reactions are at first 
crude and inexact. The distance of objects is often mis- 
taken, and the child stretches his hand to fetch distant 
objects, while small objects cannot be picked up; the 
hand often goes in the wrong direction and objects are 
often dropped, because the reactions are not exact and 
steady. Still these grasping movements form the nu- 
cleus for the formation of new and more complex strata 
of motor reactions. He learns the delicate adaptations 
of grasping small objects and the fine adjustments of 
producing a series of highly complex and extremely del- 
icate motor reactions, such for instance as one finds in 
the handling of instruments, reading, writing in the 
execution of musical pieces, in singing, and piano play- 
ing. All these motor reactions as they become more 
complex and delicate are further and further removed 
from the organized nucleus. 

What happens now in the descending process of dis- 
solution? The reverse process takes place. The more 
complex the psycho-motor structure is, and the further 
it is removed from the original nucleus, the more easily 
does it become disintegrated in the downward course 
of the process of degeneration. In the different forms 
of mental diseases, such as the various types of mania 
melancholia, paranoia, general paresis, primary demen- 
tia, dementia praecox, senile dementia, and in all those 



The Process of Moment Disaggregation 315 

chronic forms that end in secondary dementia, adapta- 
tions and acquisitions further removed from the orig- 
inal nucleus, constituting the simple relations of things 
acquired in early youth and childhood, gradually become 
disintegrated. The more remote the stratum is from 
the central nucleus the earlier does dissolution set in. 

With the setting in of the process of dissolution the 
scientist, the professor, the student loses by degrees the 
lately acquired wealth of knowledge, the complex 
and delicately balanced conceptual structure of 
scientific relationship; the more remotely related to the 
original nucleus of sense experience is the first to be- 
come shaken and tumble down. When the degenera- 
tive process has gone far enough, the original meagre 
nucleus of sense-experience becomes disintegrated in its 
turn. 

With the onset of the process of degeneration 
the banker, the business man, the speculator, grad- 
ually begin to lose the understanding of those 
speculative aspects of business adaptations and adjust- 
ments that are remotely related to the original nucleus 
of self-preservation. With the further advance of the 
process of disintegration, more stable strata, more near- 
ly related to the original nucleus become affected, until 
finally the nucleus itself is reached and its constituents 
are affected, the patient is unable to take care of himself. 

In motor reactions we find that the same law holds 
true. The finer, the more complex a given activity is, 
the more remote it is from the primary nucleus of mo- 
tor adaptations, the easier and sooner does it become 
disintegrated in the course of the pathological process. 
The musician, the virtuoso loses the power of infus- 
ing harmony, life, and emotion into the play; the 



316 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

painter loses control over his brush, the singer over his 
voice; the watchmaker, or the mechanician is unable to 
regulate the fine movements of the spring, the wheels of 
the delicate mechanism, and the mechanic is unable to 
handle his instruments. Drawing deteriorates, writing is 
impaired and defective. The liquid "r" a sound which 
children acquire late becomes difficult, if not impossible 
to pronounce. The speech test of general paralysis is 
well known. The patient is unable to repeat such a sim- 
ple formula as "round about the rugged rock the rag- 
ged rascal ran," or "truly rural." 

With the further advance of the process, such simple 
actions as picking up a pin, or threading a needle are ex- 
ecuted with great difficulty, and much hesitation. To 
produce a straight line or to draw a circle becomes im- 
possible. Involuntary tremor is predominant, a tremor, 
the rhythmical regularity of which becomes fully mani- 
fested in senile degeneration, and which is also observed, 
though without its rhythmical regularity, on the very 
eve of mental life, in infancy. 



CHAPTER XII 

REPRODUCTION AND THE REFLEX MOMENT 

WE have described the moment-conscious- 
ness as being stimulated to activity, as 
emerging, as assimilating new material, 
as growing and developing, as passing 
through many stages in the history of its individual 
evolution and dissolution. All this tacitly implies anoth- 
er characteristic besides the ones found as belonging 
to the nature of the moment. The moment-conscious- 
ness has the function of reproduction. We have inci- 
dentally discussed reproduction of the moment-con- 
sciousness, but we have not studied this character more 
closely from the standpoint of the moment's general 
nature. 

A close inspection of the moment-consciousness re- 
veals the fact that every moment-consciousness can be 
reproduced as long as it is not destroyed, as long as it 
is not dissolved into its constituent elements. For as 
long as the moment exists, each time when it is stimu- 
lated to activity the manifestation of its content, both 
sensory and motor, is ipso facto the moment's repro- 
duction. What remains for us to investigate is the 
various modes and forms of reproduction, and also 
the conditions under which they occur. 

The simplest case we may suppose is a moment- 
consciousness set into activity by an appropriate stimu- 
lus. This activity runs a certain course and comes to 
an end; it ceases when the purpose of the moment is 

317 



318 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

accomplished. A second stimulus will call forth a rep- 
etition of the activity, a recurrence of the phenomena; 
a third, a fourth, a fifth stimulus of the same kind will 
each time call to life the moment-consciousness; the 
moment will be produced again, will be reproduced. A 
repetition of the specific appropriate stimulus will be 
followed by a reproduction of the moment. 

The reappearance of the moment presents a series 
of moments situated at a distance of different time in- 
tervals. The members of this series are disconnected, 
inasmuch as each member does not contain the fact of 
its previous appearance. The present functioning ac- 
tivity is not felt in the moment by some modification 
effected in the content, it is not cognized as a reappear- 
ance. This is impossible from the very character of 
this form of reproduction, since the emerging moment 
is supposed to appear with an unchanged content, 
while modifications, feeling, and cognition of previous 
appearances require something added to the moment 
which makes it different in content. The members in 
such a series are disconnected and do not enter into re- 
lation. Each moment presents a separate beat of con- 
sciousness. The previous appearances of the moment 
are not represented in its subsequent appearances; 
each one stands by itself. No modification is pro- 
duced in the organization of the moment by the 
previous history of its life activity, no "trace" is left 
by and of former experience. On each occasion the 
same psychic content is reproduced. 

Since the form of consciousness, now under considera- 
tion, is of such a nature as to have no modification left by 
each separate beat of the moment, no connections are 
formed by the fact of functioning. Only that connec- 



Reproduction and the Reflex Moment 319 

tion exists which is given in the organic constitution. 
In other words, we may say that a being with such a 
type of moment-consciousness does not profit by indi- 
vidual experience ; it does not, and cannot get any ac- 
quired characters during its individual life existence. It 
lives only by what has been obtained by the process of 
natural selection, during the life history of the species. 
Primary sensory elements are certainly present, but 
secondary sensory elements may be absent as it de- 
pends entirely as to whether such connections requisite 
for secondary sensory elements have been established 
by variation and natural selection in the phylogenetic 
history of the moment. We may possibly say that 
while such connections are absent in a lower stage of 
the moment, they are present in a higher stage. Both 
stages, however, lack the formation of acquired char- 
acters during their individual history. 

Such states of the moment consciousness may be large- 
ly hypothetical, but they are probably present in the very 
lowest representatives in the scale of evolution. The 
throwing out of pseudopodia in the amoeba are as per- 
fect in the daughter amoeba as in the mother before 
fusion has taken place. The young vorticella is 
just as efficient as its parent in its sudden spring-like re- 
actions of contracture and expansion, both of its body 
and of its long attached thread-like fibre. What is pres- 
ent is in all probability some primitive primary 
psycho-biological element, a germ out of which the ele- 
ments of the higher forms of psychic life have differ- 
entiated. 

The structure and functions of the higher forms 
of life have become differentiated out of the homo- 
geneous activity of lower forms. The sensory nerve 



320 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

cell, the recipient of the stimulation, like the 
muscle cell, the reagent to stimuli, has evolved 
from the primitive cell by greater and greater differ- 
entiation, both of structure and function. In the crus- 
taceans, invertebrates, and lower vertebrates where mo- 
tor reactions to stimuli are more or less complex and 
varied, the sensory aspect of the moment is probably cor- 
respondingly complicated, — organic connections are 
present giving rise to secondary sensory elements, con- 
stituting the material of perceptual life. 

The soft-bodied hermit crab as soon as he hatches out 
from the egg looks for a shell to fit his body in, to pro- 
tect it from danger, and does the fitting and measuring 
of the shell with as delicate a nicety and circumspection 
as his seemingly more experienced older relatives. As 
a matter of fact, experience does not count here, — a 
baby hermit-crab is as learned as its parent. Not even 
organic modifications are acquired, the organization or 
mechanism is ready, and the first appropriate stimulus 
sets into activity reactions to external conditions in the 
most perfect way of which this organization is capable. 
The butterfly, the ant, the bee on emerging from their 
chrysalis are as perfect in their reactions as any of the 
adult individuals. Acquired characters count for noth- 
ing, inherited organization is everything. 

In the lower vertebrates such as fishes, acquired char- 
acters, modifications formed during the life time 
of the individual begin to appear, but this is only in its 
germ; here too inherited organization is everything. 
The mechanism is ready and perfect as soon as it comes 
into life, and enters into relation with the condition of 
the external environment. The moment-consciousness 
concomitant with such a type of organization is perfect 



Reproduction and the Reflex Moment 321 

from the start and has reached its maturity at birth. 
The contents of the moment cannot be enriched, the in- 
ternal relations cannot be improved, — no modifications 
can be brought about in its sensory response and motor 
reactions. External stimuli set the organization into 
activity with an unvaried psychic content, with an unal- 
terable psycho-physiological structure and motor mani- 
festations. The content of such a moment is fixed and 
unalterable. This low stage differs but little from reflex 
activity; in fact, such a type of psychosis may be termed 
reflex moment-consciousness. 



CHAPTER XIII 

DESULTORY CONSCIOUSNESS 

THE characteristic feature of the reflex mo- 
ment-consciousness is its activity on single 
lines of sensori-motor reaction. This is well 
seen in the more differentiated form of this 
stage of psycho-physiological organization. In the as- 
cidian, for instance, we meet with one sensory nerve 
cell connected with the muscular reacting apparatus. 
This is of the nature of reflex action found also in the 
higher representatives of the life series. In the high- 
er forms of the fixed moment some connections are 
formed, several sensory ganglia are connected ; the ac- 
tion may then become more varied. In the still higher 
stages of the same form many systems of ganglia of 
several organs become connected, thus giving rise to 
a highly differentiated sensori-motor apparatus. 

At this stage secondary sensory elements enter into 
the content synthetized by the moment-consciousness. 
What, however, characterizes all these forms as be- 
longing to the same type of moment-consciousness, is 
the fact of their being unmodifiable, fixed in their or- 
ganization. The moment does not get modified by its 
recurrent manifestations. The organization does not 
get improved by repetition. Things are in statu quo 
since the time of birth. The moment, not being modi- 
fiable by its previous occurrence, when stimulated, 
emerges each time with an unchangeable content. Each 
time the moment recurs, it shows not the slightest trace 

322 



Desultory Consciousness 323 

of its former life activity. 

The various reproductions of this type of moment- 
consciousness presents a disconnected series. The mo- 
ment at each time of its occurrence may, psychologi- 
cally, be regarded as an entirely new moment, inas- 
much as it bears no trace of its having been in activity 
once before. To an objective observer confronted for 
the first time with this type of moment, the latter ap- 
pears, and rightly so, as if it were just come into the 
world. The moment is regarded as reproduced, not 
by a mark inherent in its constitution, due to the fact 
of its recurrence, but by modifications in the observer. 
In short, the moment in its recurrent manifestations 
presents a disconnected series. 

If we look at consciousness from the standpoint of 
serial relationship, then the disconnected moments in 
the series appear as separate, as isolated. This isola- 
tion of the members in the series is the chief character- 
istic of this type of moment-consciousness which may 
then be termed desultory consciousness. 

The moment consciousness of the desultory type 
may also be represented in a more hypothetical form. 
There may be a type of consciousness in which the mo- 
ment does not recur at all. Each moment appears and 
vanishes, never to come again, and is followed by an- 
other moment of a totally different content. The mo- 
ments have no relation to one another. The antece- 
dent moment is totally, and we may say absolutely dis- 
connected from the subsequent moment. The series of 
moments appearing are unrelated and are also different 
in content. The moments appear like a series of suc- 
cessive bubbles, each bubble bursting, vanishing, giving 
place to a new bubble, and so on. There is oq connec- 



324 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

tion between the successive moments, neither in rela- 
tion nor in matter. Such a moment is a purely desul- 
tory form of consciousness and may possibly be pres- 
ent in the completely unorganized, non-nucleated proto- 
plasm. 

The lack of a definite stable organization may result 
in an indefinite mass of sensory responses and motor re- 
actions, hence with a changeable, indefinite psychic con- 
tent. When life becomes more differentiated and or- 
ganization appears, then the psychic content becomes or- 
ganized in a recurrent desultory moment-consciousness , 
with a more or less definite content. Amorphous life 
has as its concomitant amorphous psychosis. 

Reproduction probably begins with the more or less 
definite formation of the moment and its nuclear ele- 
ment. When the moment-consciousness appears to be 
definitely organized then reproduction is present. In 
other words, reproduction is a fundamental characteris- 
tic of the formed moment-consciousness. The reproduc- 
tion of the moment, the type of which we have just an- 
alysed, is fixed in its activity, unmodifiable in its func- 
tion from the very start of its entering into relations 
with the external environment. This type of moment 
is of such a nature as not to admit of further growth 
after it has come into the world and has begun to func- 
tion ; it admits of no improvement, of no modification. 

It is interesting to find that such a type of moment- 
consciousness is not altogether absent in the very highest 
forms of psychic life. Under certain conditions we 
meet in the higher mental types with a form of 
moment-consciousness closely resembling the fixed 
moments of the lower forms of psychic life. In 
the degenerative states of idiocy, we find the moment 
to be of the desultory type. The moment is fixed, admits 



Desultory Consciousness 325 

of no further growth; the moment recurring at more 
or less regular intervals. Such are the rhythmical move- 
ments often observed in low types of idiots, movements 
that are closely allied to those of the vorticella type. 

In the pathological states known as hypnoidic, found 
in many forms of amnesia, in somnambulistic states, in 
the so-called "psychic equivalents" of epilepsy and in the 
pure "psychic epilepsies," the moment possesses a definite 
content, highly organized, of course, considering the 
stage in which it occurs, but essentially fixed in its char- 
acter, not capable, not admitting of any changes, of any 
improvements. The hypnoidic state resembles more the 
desultory reproductive movement of the second stage 
with a highly varied and differentiated content, but oth- 
erwise fixed in character. The hypnoidic state, when- 
ever it appears, recurs with a content unchangeable, un- 
modified by the previous repetitions; it acquires no 
new, no modified characters in the course of its repro- 
ductions. Previous reproductions leave no trace behind. 
The hypnoidic state always appears fresh and new, as if 
coming into the world for the first time, not bearing the 
stamp of its life history. 

An inspection of the hypnoidic state, when it oc- 
curs, does not in the least reveal the fact of 
its having had a past, of its having similarly ap- 
peared once before. The hypnoidic state is the past 
itself, and nothing more than the past. Like the mo- 
ment-consciousness of the crustacean, or that of the in- 
vertebrate, it reacts to the stimuli of the external en- 
vironment with a given moment-content, with a definite 
set of highly complicated sensori-motor reactions. From 
this standpoint the hypnoidic state may be regarded as a 
reversion to a primitive form of psychic life, it is 
a reversion to the fixed moment of the desultory type. 



CHAPTER XIV 

THE SYNTHETIC MOMENT AND ITS REPRODUCTION 

IN our last analysis we have examined the trait of 
reproduction in the lowest types of psychic life, 
such as the different forms of desultory moment- 
consciousness. We may now turn to the higher 
types of moments and show that in them, too, the same 
fundamental character is present, only of course, be- 
coming more complicated and more differentiated with 
the progress of psychic life. The moment which we 
have thus far studied is one in which growth is impossi- 
ble as the reproduction of the moment does not embody 
the previous manifestations of the moment. In other 
words, the type examined is of such a character as only 
to synthetize content within the occurring moment, but 
it lacks synthesis of moments themselves. The repro- 
duction is of inherited content, it is phylogenetic in na- 
ture. We turn now to higher types of moments in which 
content and moments are synthetized alike. Such a type 
of psychic activity may be termed synthetic conscious- 
ness, and its moment the synthetic moment-conscious- 
ness. 

The reproduction of the synthetic moment-conscious- 
ness is not isolated, it stands in relation to the antecedent 
and subsequent moments. Each reproduction modifies 
the next one to a certain degree, however, slight that 
may be. The moment is essentially modifiable and capa- 
ble of improvement up to a certain point of which its 
internal organization permits. The reproduction of the 

3 26 



The Synthetic Moment and Its Reproduction 327 

synthetic type bears in its organization the stamp of its 
previous life history. We may say that just as the mo- 
ment of the desultory type is an epitome of phylogenetic 
evolution, so is the moment of the synthetic type an epi- 
tome of ontogenetic development. 

In its lowest form the synthetic moment undergoes 
modification by the fact of previous functioning ac- 
tivity. The synthetic moment in its reproduction may 
be represented in a series of moments, each repro- 
duced moment is modified by the preceding moment 
and in its turn modifies the succeeding moment. The 
series is interrelated and interconnected. Each link in 
the series includes the previous link, and is in its turn 
included by the succeeding link. Each member in the 
series possesses itself of the wealth and being of its 
predecessor, and is itself inherited by its successor. The 
whole series is really a history of the continued growth 
and development of the one moment-consciousness 
passing through various stages in the way of reaching 
maturity, both in structure and function. 

It is true that once the synthetic moment has reached 
its maturity it may go on reproducing in the same way 
as the desultory moment, but the element of modifica- 
tion is still present, although it cannot be so clearly 
seen by a superficial examination. To detect this 
element of modifying influence of one reproduction on 
the succeeding one, we must watch the moment closely 
and, if possible, experiment on it. As long as the con- 
tent of the moment remains relatively unchanged, no 
change is observed in its reproductions after having 
reached the acme of development. Should, however, 
some change be introduced during the functioning of 
the moment, at once this modification reappears on the 



328 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

reproduction of the moment. 

A change may be introduced in the moment in a 
somewhat different way, namely, by letting it rest for 
a time longer than requisite for its restitution by arrest- 
ing its activity. This introduces a change in the inter- 
nal constitution of the moment, weakening the intensity 
of its activity, or loosening the co-ordination of its in- 
ternal relationship. The co-ordination and activity 
of the psychic elements synthetized in the moment be- 
come shaken; the stability of the moment is interfered 
with; its equilibrium gained in growth and develop- 
ment by the successive series of modifications is partial- 
ly overthrown ; the moment becomes unstable, its struc- 
ture and function regress and fall back a few steps 
lower in the course of its adaptation to the conditions 
of the external environment, adaptations acquired dur- 
ing the life history of its individual development. The 
mere arrest of the moment's function for a shorter or 
longer period at once tells on the subsequent reproduc- 
tion of the moment. The function of the moment suc- 
ceeding the period of arrest is less perfect; the moment 
is less adapted in its reactions to external stimuli. 
These facts, it seems, clearly indicate that in reaching 
maturity the moment has not lost its capacity for 
adaptability and modification. 

Furthermore, the fact of arrest with subsequent 
modification and degradation of function shows that 
the adaptation reached by the moment in its mature 
state is really kept in stable equilibrium by its more 
cr less continued reproduction. Each reproduction of 
the moment is indispensable to the existence of the 
next one, and manifests its influence by maintaining 
the succeeding moment in the stage of maturity reached 



The Synthetic Moment and Its Reproduction 329 

by the long series of modifications. 

The moment of the synthetic type profits by experi- 
ence, the moment of the desultory type does not. We 
realize now the difference between the moment of the 
desultory type and the moment of the synthetic type. 
The desultory reproductive moment is highly stable in 
its organization, formed by variations and the iron hand 
of natural selection; it is crystalized in character, func- 
tion does not effect its organization. The reproductive 
moment of the synthetic type, however, while having on 
the one hand as its basis a functioning apparatus, formed 
in the course of phylogenesis, has on the other hand a 
large capacity for modification, and is mainly built up by 
function; it is profoundly modified by its own function- 
ing activity. In other words, while the moment of the 
desultory type is entirely organic in its nature, the mo- 
ment of the synthetic type is mainly of a functional char- 
acter. The contrast between the two types of moment 
may be summarized in the one phrase: "function vs. 
structure." The aphorism "function maketh structure" 
holds good only of the synthetic moment. 

In speaking of the fact that the synthetic moment 
profits by its experience, while the desultory moment does 
not, we must be guarded against the term 'experience.' 
For it implies a psychic state belonging to a higher type 
of moment-consciousness, and it is misleading, unless the 
term be qualified, when used for a lower type of psychic 
life. Experience would imply that the moment under 
consideration has an idea of its state and remembering 
it takes on another occasion advantage of its acquired 
knowledge. Nothing of the kind occurs in the synthetic 
type. The synthetic moment has no knowledge of what 
is taking place in its psychic activity, it is not conscious 



330 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

of the states it is living through. The only knowledge 
the synthetic moment possesses is the one characteristic 
of sensory life in general, — it is somewhat like what 
some writers term knowledge of acquaintance. The 
content of the synthetic moment only approaches to this 
form of knowledge, which is really different in nature, 
inasmuch as "knowledge of acquaintance" is only a 
lower stage of mental activity characteristic of a higher 
type of moment than the one under investigation. 
Knowledge of acquaintance implies a sensation also the 
free image and free idea of that sensation. The synthetic 
type on the contrary has only the sensation, the free 
image and idea are totally wanting. 

The psychic life of the infant is probably the near- 
est that comes up to the nature of knowledge or ex- 
perience characteristic of the synthetic moment. I say 
that the infant's psychic life comes nearest to that of 
the synthetic moment, but still the two are not exactly 
the same. In the infant's consciousness, however 
young, free images and ideas are potential and on the 
way to germinate, while the synthetic moment lacks 
this potentiality, inasmuch as the synthetic moment 
reaches its full development without giving rise to free 
psychic elements. The consciousness of the infant is a 
low stage of a high type of moment-consciousness; 
while the synthetic consciousness is a high stage of a 
low type of moment-consciousness. The high stage of 
a low type and the low stage of a high type may be 
respectively illustrated by the algebraic formulae: 
(a-\-b) n and (a+b J rc+d J re J \-f- i r . . . . )* where a, b, c, d 
.... are the functions of the moment and n the de- 
gree of development of the moment. 

The consciousness of the young infant as closely re- 



The Synthetic Moment and Its Reproduction 33 1 

sembles the synthetic moment as the fish stage of the 
human embryo resembles the fish itself. Still the anal- 
ogy is useful as it gives a closer insight into the consti- 
tution and relations of the two types of moment-con- 
sciousness. The infant in its psychic growth no doubt 
passes through the inferior types of moment-conscious- 
ness, but in a most general and sketchy form. The 
ontogenesis of psychic life is probably as much an epi- 
tome of its phylogenesis as the ontogenesis of biosis 
is an epitome of its phylogenesis. Both give a most 
generalized epitome modified by adaptations and by 
the specific type of organization in which the ontogene- 
tic evolution is taking place. 



CHAPTER XV 

THE ACCUMULATIVE CHARACTER OF THE SYNTHETIC 

MOMENT 



T 



""^HE experience of the synthetic moment 
means not consciousness of the presented 
content, but simply modification of psychic 
function. The experience of the functioning 
moment influences the content on its next reproduction. 
If A is the original functioning synthetic moment and 
bi, &2, bs, b* its modifications due to the functioning ac- 
tivity, then the successive reproductions of the moment 
may be represented by the following formula : A, Ai&i, 
A2&2, A3&3, A«^, A0&5 until it reaches its maturity or state 
of stable equilibrium, say A Q b n . The whole series may 
be represented by the formula : A, Ai£i, AJ?*, A>b* — 
A n b n . Each member of the series reproduces in an 
epitomized form all the members that preceded it and 
the last one, the mature moment in its state of equil- 
ibrium, representing an epitome of the whole series. 
The series in its successive stages represents the life 
history of the growth and development of the synthetic 
moment. 

Concrete examples may help to make the matter 
clearer. The fish in making repeated attacks on an- 
other fish contained in the same tank and meeting re- 
peatedly with failures will finally desist from its at- 
tempts. The fish that has been snapped at many times 
and has escaped will keep away from the dangerous 
place. This does not mean that the fish remembers its 
experiences, that it is conscious of its failures, of the 

332 



Accumulative Character of Synthetic Moment 333 

futility of its attacks, or that it knows that yon- 
der is a dangerous place which is to be avoided. 
The whole matter is far simpler. Each repeated fail- 
ure modifies the moment-consciousness so that the con- 
tent slightly changes, the unsuccessful motor reactions 
diminish and finally disappear, while in their place 
others are substituted. Thus the fish on perceiving its 
prey may either avoid it and swim away, or it may 
keep quiet simply following the prey with its eye. 

The chick on emerging from the egg may peck at its 
excrements a few times, but each time the disgust ex- 
perienced modifies the moment. The reaction of the next 
moment, when confronted with the same stimulus, be- 
comes less vigorous and finally with the reproductions of 
the moment, the adaptation becomes so perfect that the 
mere sight of the disagreeable object suffices to repel the 
chick and make it turn aside. Here once more it is not 
that the chick remembers the disgust, and as soon as it is 
confronted with its excrements, its straightway remem- 
bers the disgust it has experienced. This is to ascribe a 
high form of consciousness to a moment of a low type. 
The process that has taken place is simpler. The disgust 
experienced has so modified the sensory motor reactions 
of the moment that finally different reactions result in 
response to definite stimulations under definite condi- 
tions. 

The same holds true of the cat, and the dog. The 
first weeks of their life kittens or puppies are unable to 
walk well, they seem to pick their way continuously; 
gradually they learn to walk and run; the dog soon be- 
gins to race and the cat becomes graceful and nimble in 
its movements. It will certainly be agreed that 
young puppies or young kittens do not actually remem- 



334 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

ber the steps of their experiences. What happens is 
that the activity of the organs, along with the growth 
of the corresponding motor cells, so modifies the func- 
tion that the walking becomes more and more perfect 
until it reaches perfect adaptation. 

The same thing occurs in the training of brutes. It 
is not that the brute remembers the steps of the process, 
and knows how improvement has taken place by a given 
way of action. In the process of training modifications 
are brought about by each successive reproduction of the 
moments in response to the action of external stimuli. 
Modifications due to successful chance action, being 
more satisfactory to the brute, are stronger and modify 
the moment in their own direction, while unsuccessful 
reactions tend to drop out and thus adaptation, improve- 
ment is brought about. The cat in scratching for the 
door to open it scratches at first aimlessly and does not 
open, — the actions are unsuccessful. Should the cat hap- 
pen to scratch the handle and open the door, which 
certainly is probable, considering the activity of the cat's 
paw, the result is satisfactory. The repetitions of 
such chance actions will gradually so modify the cat's 
scratching that it will become more and more definite. 
The successful actions alone will be repeated, the un- 
successful will drop out. Finally the adaptation will 
become so perfect that the sight of the closed door will 
at once result in the reaction of scratching the handle 
and opening the door. 

The young bird is brought in the world in a rather 
helpless condition as to movement of co-ordination, 
especially flying movements. The apparatus for flying 
is undeveloped, but it soon reaches its perfect adapta- 
tion through activity, exercise, practice, that modify 



Accumulative Character of Synthetic Moment 335 

both structure and function. The bird does not remem- 
ber the steps of its acquisitions and profits by its failures 
so as to make consciously better and more adaptive 
movements. The process that takes place is far more 
simple : Each act of functioning produces and repro- 
duces modifications, both in structure and function, until 
the apparatus and its activity reach perfect adaptation. 
The total moment is modified on each reproduction until 
a point is reached where further growth and develop- 
ment ceases and maturity of function is established. 

The same holds true in the case of the child. The 
child on learning to sit is doing it in a very clumsy 
fashion, tumbles over every time; it must be sup- 
ported by pillows to keep it in the same position and also 
to prevent it from being hurt. The structure works im- 
perfectly. The exercise of the apparatus, along with 
its further growth, brings about a more perfect adapta- 
tion, and the child finally learns to maintain its equi- 
librium when in the sitting posture. The standing up- 
right passes through a similar history. When the co- 
ordinating apparatus for walking begins to appear, it 
works at first in a very awkward manner. The child 
first walks by holding on to some objects, such as chairs, 
or the wall, or the hand of his parent and nurse. When 
he makes a step all by himself, he is almost frightened, 
and when left alone often cries. 

Practice and growth of the walking apparatus be- 
comes more and more perfect. The child makes two 
or three steps hesitatingly, stops, asks for help and sup- 
port. Gradually his movements become more certain, 
and more steps are taken until finally the child learns 
to walk, still imperfectly, in the waddling fashion 
characteristic of young age. The walking apparatus 



336 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

grows and keeps on functioning. The function reacts 
on the further growth making the movements more 
and more perfect. Each attempt makes the next one 
easier. Adaptations develop not only by the mere 
growth of the apparatus, but also by function. In fact 
function largely determines the growth of the appar- 
atus. 

It must, however, be pointed out that the example 
taken from baby life may be used only as an illustra- 
tion of the way the synthetic moment grows by func- 
tion or reproduction. The child's growth does not ex- 
actly follow the same lines as those of the synthetic 
moment, since the psychic life of man develops on a 
higher level belonging to a higher type of moment. In 
the efforts of the baby to walk some germs of deliber- 
ation and reflection may be observed, but it is hardly 
probable that these elements are present in the first 
attempts of the cat to walk or of the bird to fly. The mo- 
ment of the synthetic type grows by simple modifica- 
tions of its function brought about by its repeated re- 
productions. 

The modifications, however, of the moment's func- 
tion are not mere chance modifications. The function, 
is modified on a definite line in the direction of more 
perfect adaptation. 

Reactions to stimuli coming from the external en- 
vironment become more defined until a definite set of 
reactions is established. This involves the selective ac- 
tivity of the moment. Certain fit reactions are selected 
and assimilated by the moment, while others, unfit are 
rejected. This, however, is a trait which is character- 
istic not only of the synthetic moment, but of the mo- 
ment-consciousness in general. 



CHAPTER XVI 

THE SIMPLE AND COMPOUND SYNTHETIC MOMENT 

A FURTHER examination of the synthetic 
moment reveals two stages, a lower and a 
higher. The moment may consist of a nu- 
cleus having only one kind of sensory ele- 
ments and of a net-work of subsidiary relations belong- 
ing to the domain of the same sensory elements. The 
animal may trace its food or its prey by the sense of 
smell alone. This act becomes more perfect with further 
function. The modifications accumulate in the domain 
of the same sense-element and the adaptations occur in a 
relatively simple one-sided sensori-motor apparatus. 
Modifications of such a character occur phylogenetically 
in the sensory apparatus of the lower invertebrates, such 
as Crustacea, arthropodes, and possibly also in the lower 
forms of vertebrates. Such a phylogenetic accumula- 
tion in these low types of moments is formed only by 
variation and natural selection, while in the case of the 
synthetic moment the accumulation is formed during 
the life history of the particular individual. The one 
is racial acquisition, the other is individual experience. 
Both, however, may agree in the general character of 
the modification effected. The modifications are in one 
sensory organ, and the psychic moment-content consists 
of similar sense-elements. Such a stage of psychic ac- 
tivity may be termed simple accumulative synthetic mo- 
ment-consciousness. 

If A represents the first occurrence of the moment, the 

337 



338 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

first functioning of the simple sensori-motor apparatus 
as given by phylogenesis, and if a be the modification ef- 
fected, then the accumulative process may be represented 
by the powers of a; thus the first will be A, the next 
is Aifl 1 , the following is A?a\ then A*a and so on. The 
total process to the point of maturity may be represented 
by the following formula : A, A^a 1 , A?a% Asa 3 , A*a\ .... 
A n a n . A n a n represents the highest stage of perfection 
reached by the simple accumulative synthetic mo- 
ment. 

The synthetic moment may also have a higher stage 
where many different sensori-motor elements are syn- 
thetized, the accumulative modifications occur along 
different lines of sensory responses and motor reac- 
tions. The moment reaches here the highest form of 
consciousness as mere perceptual in character. The 
fish perceives its prey not only by smell, but also by 
sight along with muscular and touch sensations; all 
of them go to form the percept of the prey yonder, as 
far as perception of fish space is concerned. 

The American flounder of the Atlantic coast may be 
taken as an illustration. Although the flounder is per- 
fectly quiet, almost lying motionless at the bottom of 
the tank, only occasionally moving his small protrud- 
ing eye, no sooner is some small fly thrown into the 
tank, than the flounder at once darts in that direction, 
and attacks its prey with a snap. I wanted to find out 
how far visual perception is concerned in the tracing 
of the prey, and how far sense of smell and touch are 
important in this particular fish at least. The flounder 
was deprived of its organs of sight, and after having 
been given about twenty-four hours time to recover 
from the effects of the operation, it was thrown into a 



The Simple and Compound Synthetic Moment 339 

tank teeming with little fishes on which it feeds. 

The flounder settled to the bottom, but in about a few 
minutes raised itself in the attitude of attack, so highly 
characteristic of this species, either smelling the little 
ones or feeling the vibrations made in the water by the 
swimming movements of the little fish; it made a dart 
in the direction of a whole mass of them, but missed. 
This has been repeated many times over, the flounder 
failing every time and only snapping water or air bub- 
bles. The little folk soon became emboldened and 
avoiding his front they came from behind pecking at 
his blind eye. The flounder could not reach these lit- 
tle fellows. 

Moreover, the bottom of the tank where the 
blind flounder was lying was full of small sea-robins 
which like to walk on the bottom with their high- 
ly sensitive leg-feelers. The blind flounder did not at- 
tack them, although with his eyes in good order, he 
would have instantly attacked the sea-robins. It ap- 
pears then that the flounder tracks its prey by the sense 
of sight mainly, while the other senses are indefinite 
guides. Still the other senses seem to take an active 
part in tracing the prey, as the blind flounder was most 
of the time in an attitude of attack. Evidently he was 
smelling the prey or feeling its movements all the time 
and was aware of its presence, though the senses with- 
out sight could not give him the definite direction in 
which the prey was to be found. In other words, the 
other senses awaken only the sensations of presence of 
the food, but do not give its direction and location. 

It is highly probable, then, as far as we can infer from 
this experiment as to the psychic state of the fish, that 
the flounder does not get a definite percept, unless 



34° Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

many different sensory elements are combined in a 
synthesis giving rise to a well defined motor reaction 
of more or less perfect adaptation. The synthetic mo- 
ment, then, in this particular species at least, seems to 
be of a highly complex character, inasmuch as many 
different sense-elements go to make up its content. 

Similarly it is affirmed of the sea-robin that, if its deli- 
cate leg-feelers are cut off, the fish is unable to feed. If 
that be true, then the touch sensation is important here 
and enters as a determining element in the moment 
along with other elements coming from other sense- 
organs. In the dog smell is mainly the determining 
factor, but the functioning of other senses are requisite 
to form secondary sensory elements; here too the mo- 
ment is made up of many series of various sense-ele- 
ments. In the bird, in the ape, in the man, sight is the 
chief element in perception, but the percept arises not 
from visual elements alone, but from a synthesis of 
a multitude of elements coming from other sense-or- 
gans the visual elements often taking the lead. 

From a purely biological standpoint we can under- 
stand the importance of the leading part played by the 
visual elements in the psychic life of the higher verte- 
brates and especially of that of man. It is of the 
greatest advantage in the struggle for existence to de- 
velop a sense organ that admits of the most delicate 
objective discrimination. No other senses, not even 
that of hearing, are so free from the general organic 
sensation as the sense of sight. Hence the sensory 
elements coming from the sense organs other than 
sight are confused and lack the objective clearness 
characteristic of the sense of sight. The visual sense 
further is of the highest sensitivity to extremely low 



The Simple and Compound Synthetic Moment 341 

and distant stimulations such as are produced by ether 
waves. An animal therefore that will by natural se- 
lection have its moment consciousness organized round 
a nucleus of highest sensitivity such as that of visual 
sense elements will have better chances to survive and 
succeed in the struggle for existence. Still, even 
in man the elements coming from other sense 
organs may become predominating in the nucleus 
and give rise to various mental types, such as audiles, 
motiles, and so on. This holds specially true of the 
higher representative elements. A moment-conscious- 
ness that has a varied content of many different sen- 
sory-elements synthetized in one compound, accompan- 
ied on the motor side with a complex of motor reac- 
tions may be termed compound synthetic moment-con- 
sciousness. 

The compound synthetic moment-consciousness is 
characterized in its series of accumulations in the same 
way as is the simple synthetic moment, the only differ- 
ence being the complexity of the lines of accumula- 
tions. The accumulated sensori-elements of the same 
kind or of the same sense-organ form primary com- 
pounds among themselves and secondary or double 
and treble compounds with other compounded series of 
sensory elements. If V represents the original pri- 
mary visual sensory element, T tactual, A auditory, O 
olfactory, and M muscular sensory elements, then the 
series for the development of the highly adapted A 
aspect of the moment may be represented by the form- 
ula already given, in our analysis, namely: A, Aia 1 , 
A 2 a 2 , Asa*, A4a 4 .... A n a n . The V aspect of the moment 
similarly gives V, V^v 1 , V=v 2 , Vsv 8 , V*v\ . . . V n V n . 

The T, O, and M series will give respectively the 



34 2 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

following formulae : 

T, T\t, TV, Tst f , T<t 4 Txot 10 T n r\ 

O, do, Oo 3 , Oao 3 , Cho 4 0-o 10 O n o n . 

M, Mim, M^m 2 , IVW, Mm 4 M.om 10 . . . M n m n . 

The process of composition begins not at the first 
members of the series, but rather further on. Some 
accumulations must be made first in each series sepa- 
rately before combinations of the different series can 
take place. For simplicity sake we may postulate that 
the process of composition of all lines begins in each 
alike, although this may not be the case; let us assume 
that such a process begins in the tenth stage of the ser- 
ies. Before that, say in the third stage compositions may 
be found only on two or three lines, such as WT^ 8 or 
still further V 5 vT 5 t 5 M 5 m 5 , or WTVCW Mem 9 . The V 
precedes in the formula indicating its primary import- 
ance in the case of the moment where the visual sensory 
elements are mainly the guide for sensori-motor reac- 
tions, the visual sensations constituting the leading and 
central elements of the compound. In a moment of 
the same type but with a differently related content O or 
A may be the main elements of the compound, an ele- 
ment round which other sense-elements become grouped. 
The formula may then be OsoT^Msm 6 , or in the case 
where A is predominant A^TsfMsm 5 , etc. The syn- 
thetic moment will from its starting point, say VWTiot 10 
Oioo 10 Aioa 10 Mium 10 proceed onward, reaching its height of 
development and adaptation in the compound V n v n 
T n t n O n o n A n a n M n m n . This last stage of the moment 
has at its disposal the accumulations of all the 
previous synthetic moments both simple and com- 



The Simple and Compound Synthetic Moment 343 

pound. The compound synthetic moment is the heir 
of all previous acquisitions and accumulations, and, as 
such, may be characterized as the compound, accumula- 
tive, synthetic moment. 

Although the simple synthetic moment and the com- 
pound moment differ in character and complexity of 
content, they still agree in one general trait character- 
istic of the synthetic moment, namely, fixed synthesis. 
The series of sensory elements, both primary and sec- 
ondary, that enter into the content of the moment are 
firmly combined. The elements of such compounds 
cannot get disengaged and do not therefore exist in a 
free state, they form stable compounds. 

The form of reproduction common to all the 
moments thus far examined is that of reinstate- 
ment. The sensori-motor elements of the moment 
are reinstated in all their reality. The moment 
in its successive stages of reproduction is brought 
to life by impressions coming from external stimuli. 
Primary and secondary sense-elements enter into the 
moment's constitution whenever it reappears. In both 
forms of the synthetic type, the moment with the recur- 
rence of the reproductions, becomes enriched in sen- 
sory elements, primary and secondary; but these ele- 
ments must be present, and, from the very nature of 
the types of moments under consideration, no other 
elements can possibly be present. The series in which 
the successive steps of the moment, desultory or syn- 
thetic, manifests itself is composed entirely of sen- 
sory elements, most or all of which vary but little from 
one beat of the moment to the other. 

The fact of the simple reinstatement is especially 
clear in the case of the desultory moment. Each rein- 



344 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

stated moment induced by external stimuli is an exact 
copy of its predecessor. In the synthetic moment the 
content of two adjoining stages is a little varied, still 
the sensory elements constituting the content of the 
preceding moment is reinstated in the succeeding one. 
It is true that even the desultory moment is not abso- 
lutely smooth in its course of repetitions or reinstate- 
ments. Interruptions of functions due to unfavorable 
stimuli often occur within the series, interruptions, 
which may be brought about by artificial conditions and 
in which different psycho-motor responses are interpo- 
lated, but these responses do not enter into the content 
of the moment when the favorable conditions are re- 
stored, — the responses do not become habitual. Thus 
the rhythmical pulsations of the vorticella may be 
temporarily arrested by the evaporation of the liquid 
in which it is contained, but no number of evaporations 
will change the series of rhythmical pulsations by hav- 
ing stages of arrests interpolated into the series. Simi- 
larly it is highly questionable whether a fly, beetle, or 
cockroach could contract any habits. 

Some eminent psychologists go to the length of af- 
firming that even the lowest representative animal life, 
the protozoa (possibly bacteria, bacilli), possess idea- 
tional and volitional processes, that the lower stages of 
mental life manifest association, reproduction, mem- 
ory, cognition, and recognition. Other psychologists 
are more moderate, they regard the acquisition of 
knowledge as adaptation through habit, characteristic 
of the lowest representative of animal life. Thus one 
psychologist propounds the question, "How is it that 
we or the brute learn to do anything?" Does the amoe- 
ba learn at all? What belongs to our type of con- 



The Simple and Compound Synthetic Moment 345 

sciousness is assumed as being true of all types — the 
old psychological fallacy. "Learning," habits are bio- 
logical variations characteristic of the higher types of 
consciousness and are not present in the lower forms 
of mental activity. 

It is highly questionable whether the formation of 
habits is possible even in the highest representatives of 
the invertebrata, such as the bee and the ant. The 
ant is probably largely guided by the sense of smell, 
while the bee is prompted in its activity both by smell 
and sight. The activities of these animals, though 
highly complex, are still fixed in their character becom- 
ing manifested with the recurrence of definite sensory 
stimulations. The individual acquires nothing by ex- 
perience and forms no habits; everything is formed by 
the species. Spontaneous variation and natural selec- 
tion are the only agencies of the relatively high or- 
ganization and complex psycho-motor life-activity of 
the higher types of the synthetic moment. 

Habit is a character that does not belong to the 
desultory moment, it comes only with the birth of the 
synthetic moment. The fixed character of the desul- 
tory moment admitting of no modifications precludes 
the formation of any habits ; the moment's reproduction 
therefore is reinstatement par excellence, — each repro- 
duced moment being an exact copy of its original. The 
individual presents only the history of the species. The 
reproductions of the synthetic moment begin to show 
the history of the modification which have appeared in 
the course of the moment's life activity. Each recurrent 
reproduction of the synthetic moment is an epitome of 
its individual life-history, an epitome of its ontogenetic 
psychogenesis. 



CHAPTER XVII 

THE DESULTORY TYPE IN PATHOLOGICAL STATES. 

A FORM of reproduction analogous to the 
ones present in the desultory moment is to 
be found in various psychopathological 
states. The nature of reproductions of the 
hypnoidic states comes very near to the simple form of 
reinstatement characteristic of the desultory moment. 
The main feature of this pathological state is its re- 
current sensory character isolated from the rest of the 
individual's psychic life. Experiences emerging in 
this state are actually lived over again. The hypnoidic 
state is desultory, it forms no connected relations in its 
various reproductions, it does not become modified by 
its many occurrences, and the first stage is as rich 
in psychic content as the last stage. The hyp- 
noidic state is relatively fixed. Of course, between the 
desultory moment and the hypnoidic state there is only 
an analogy in the nature of functioning, otherwise the 
states are actually different, inasmuch as they belong 
to altogether different types of moments. 

The nature of reinstatement characteristic of the re- 
productions of the synthetic moment is clearly revealed 
in the way modifications are effected and non-adaptive 
reactions are eliminated. Sensory responses and mo- 
tor reactions that have met with failure and evil con- 
sequences are modified by degrees, in portions so to 
say. The law that regulates the succession of the mod- 
ifications effected is the order of the degree of harm 

346 



The Desultory Type in Pathological States 347 

consequent on the reactions to which the sensory re- 
sponses lead. If then the most harmful reactions be- 
long to the middle of the series of motor reactions 
constituting the motor aspect of the moment, these 
are modified by being gradually dropped out and oth- 
ers substituted. The rest, the more or less indifferent 
reactions of the series are gone through, although they 
bear no longer any relation to the sensori-motor reac- 
tions that have immediately preceded them. To an 
external observer such reactions are ridiculous and un- 
intelligible, since they cannot be understood with refer- 
ence to their immediate antecedents; their nature can 
only be made clear from the history of the moment. 

Such traces in the organization of the synthetic mo- 
ment are vestiges of previous useful functions, of a 
series of adaptive reactions; they are like rudimentary 
organs in the economy of the organism. Thus a chick 
may peck repeatedly at his waste products or at a burn- 
ing match and repeatedly wipe his bill; finally a marked 
modification is brought about in its sensory responses 
and reactions. When the chick is confronted with 
those objects, it comes up to them, looks at them, does 
not peck, but wipes its bill. To an external observer 
to whom the history of the chick's experience is un- 
known, the wiping of the bill would have been entirely 
unintelligible. 

Reinstatement can be similarly observed in cases 
where conditions have changed, but the modification 
has not yet been effected within the content of the mo- 
ment. Thus the story of the actions of the hen that 
brought her brood of chicks to the river and urged 
them to swim would have appeared strange, possibly 
mysterious, if not for our knowledge of the hen's 



348 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

former experience with a brood of ducklings. The 
mode of reproduction of the synthetic moment is a 
series of successive phases of more and more modified 
reinstatements which can only become intelligible on 
following up more or less closely the history of the 
moment's development. 

The forms of reinstatement characteristic of the 
synthetic and desultory moments are to be found in 
higher types of moments. When undergoing the pro- 
cess of dissolution, secondary dementia, the terminus of 
chronic insanity offers a wealth of facts at our disposal. 
The mental states of secondary dementia are like the 
ruins of great castles, like fossils of former growth of 
vegetation and animal life. The active living moments 
are disintegrated, decomposed and only some of the 
constituents are left to function. These constituents, 
remnants of former life-activity, are simply reinstated. 
One who has not known the history of the case will 
hardly comprehend the actions of the patient. Thus 
one dement may keep on covering himself with a 
blanket, or hiding himself into corners. He who is ig- 
norant of the history of the case would regard the ac- 
tion as capricious and meaningless, he would hardly 
guess from the patient's actions that the latter when in a 
state of chronic melancholia labored under the delu- 
sion that he was made of glass, and that people could 
see the actions of his guts. The synthetized and sys- 
tematized delusion itself was swept away in the general 
ruin and decomposition, only some remnants were left, 
a few sensori-motor elements remained. These elements 
are now being reinstated in the same fashion as the sim- 
ple types of the synthetic and desultory moments. Simi- 
larly it would be hard to guess from the frequent mum- 



The Desultory Type in Pathological States 349 

bling of the words 'Alexander,' that the dement in his 
early stages of mental alienation was under the delusion 
that he was the deceased Russian czar come to life. The 
word 'Alexander' is simply a chip of a former highly 
systematized moment, the chip now reproducing itself 
after the simple fashion of the desultory moment. 

The phenomena of imperative concepts, insistent or 
fixed ideas, uncontrollable impulses all grow and de- 
velop along the general lines of the synthetic moment. 
They are reinstatements of portions of dissociated mo- 
ments buried in the subconscious and growing by the 
process of modification with each recurrent reinstate- 
ment. 

Hypnoidal states described by me bear evidence to 
the same truth of reinstatement of psychic elements. 
In the hypnoidal states fractions of dissociated mo- 
ments present in the subconscious come up like bubbles 
to the surface of the patient's consciousness, burst, dis- 
appear, and vanish never to come again. The frag- 
ments are reinstated chips of highly organized mo- 
ments, now in a state of disaggregation. The hypnoi- 
dal chips sometimes manifest themselves in their re- 
production after the mode of simple or elementary 
desultory consciousness, mental states appear and dis- 
appear, leaving no traces behind them. 

In the phenomena of automatic writing, crystal gaz- 
ing, shell-hearing and so on, reinstatement of moments 
in different degrees and stages of organization takes 
place. Finally in the phenomena of hypnosis we meet 
with similar conditions, the states are induced artifi- 
cially in the otherwise healthy and normally function- 
ing individuality. Such are the phenomena of person- 
ality metamorphosis and of post-hypnotic or hypnoner- 



350 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

gic states. In these states moments are artificially 
formed in the dissociated subconscious moments which 
rise to the surface of consciousness with all the energy 
supplied to them by the subconscious. They reproduce 
and perpetuate themselves after the mode of the syn- 
thetic moment until their end is achieved, when they 
gradually fade away, or, what is still more often the 
case, vanish in the same sudden and abrupt way as they 
come. 

The artificially induced post-hypnotic or hypnoner- 
gic states studied from the standpoint of the moment- 
consciousness are found to be analogous to many psy- 
chopathic conditions. The main character of these 
states is their dissociation and reproduction, or rather 
reinstatement on the basis of lower types of moment- 
consciousness. 

In psychopathic functional states not only does dis- 
integration of content occur, but there is also present 
functional degradation of the type of the moment. The 
function of the moment reverts to lower types of psy- 
chic activity, while the content consists of constituents 
formed on higher lines of psychic life. Hence the 
lack of adaptation, the conflict in psychopathic states 
between function and content. It is like the formation 
of a barbaric society out of the remnants of a ruined 
civilization. 

We may then affirm that the characteristic mode of 
reproduction, both of the desultory and synthetic mo- 
ment, is reinstatement. The difference between the 
two moments being that while the moment of the des- 
ultory type reproduces by reinstatement only, that of 
the synthetic type reproduces by both reinstatement 
and modification. 



CHAPTER XVIII 

PRESENTATIONS AND REPRESENTATIONS 

IN the course of our analysis of the lower types 
of moments it has been shown that the psychic 
elements entering into their synthetized content 
occur not in a free independent state, but in fixed 
accumulations and stable compounds, having reinstate- 
ment as the mode of their reproduction. There is, 
however, a higher type of moment in which psychic 
elements occur in a free independent state, having ac- 
cordingly a mode of reproduction different from that 
of the types we have just examined. Let us see now 
what the nature of these free elements is, how they 
come to arise and what is the peculiar mode of their 
reproduction. 

If we look at the tree yonder and then close our 
eyes, we can represent to ourselves the tree in its gen- 
eral outlines at least. We see its trunk, its branches, 
and its green foliage. After our friend's departure 
we continue to see him in our mind's eye. We live 
over mentally, in our imagination, all our relations, 
our mutual enjoyments. We seem to watch him act 
and hear him talk. The representative elements can- 
not possibly be identified with or derived from after- 
images. For after images are really after-sensations 
and consist of sensory elements. The elements in- 
volved in the state of representative psychic life are 
freed from all immediate coexistence with sensory ele- 
ments, primary or secondary; in fact, they appear 

351 



352 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

when the sensory elements disappear. 

The two sets of psychic elements, the presentative 
and representative, stand in inverse relation to each 
other. When the one is at its maximum the other is 
at its minimum. When sensory elements appear the 
free elements become faint. This faintness is in pro- 
portion to the intensity of the sensory element. It is 
hard for us to look at a color and imagine it at the 
same time ; and the more intense and brilliant the color 
is, the harder it is for us to have the color, at the same 
time, represented. Look at an object, say the lighted 
lamp, take in well its sensory elements and you will 
find that it is almost impossible to represent it to your- 
self at the same time. Try hard to represent to your- 
self the object and you will find that its sensory ele- 
ments will begin to vacillate and become faint, or less 
vivid. When absorbed in our ideas we often do not 
notice even very intense stimuli. The two series of ele- 
ments, the sensory or, presentative, and the free ones, 
the representative, cannot run together without inter- 
fering with each other, nay, without arresting each 
other. 

Representative elements bring with them a new 
fundamental departure in the mental activity of the 
moment, they may keep up its activity when flagging, 
may intensify it, but may also deflect it, or distract it, 
giving rise to another conflicting moment. Thus on the 
one hand my continuous thought about a certain scien- 
tific proposition constituting the substance of the pres- 
ent active moment may begin to flag, but it is soon kept 
up by new observations and experiments; on the other 
hand, the occasional glance at the morning newspaper 
may tend to deflect mental activity to quite a different 



Presentations and Representations 353 

channel by awakening the activity of quite a different 
moment-consciousness conflicting with the train of 
thought on scientific matter. 

Presentative elements have a permanency and sta- 
bility which representative elements totally lack; they 
can be kept up in their full strength by keeping up the 
same intensity of stimulation, as by maintaining the ob- 
ject before the particular sense organ that forms the 
nucleus of the percept. Thus the pricking of the 
needle is perceived as long as the stimulation is con- 
tinued, and the chair yonder is seen as long as it is kept 
before the eyes. Representative elements on the con- 
trary, are extremely unstable and fluctuating, and are 
aptly characterized as being very much like "the flare 
and flicker of a gas flame blown by the wind." When 
representative elements become permanent, stable, the 
state of the moment acquires a pathological character 
manifested in the phenomena of insistent thoughts and 
fixed ideas. 

Presentative psychic elements are always firmly 
bound up with an external object and with stimu- 
lations of peripheral sense-organs ; they can never free 
themselves from the bondage to the external environ- 
ment. Not so the representative elements, although 
appearing at first in connection with sensory elements 
and peripheral stimulations, they finally end by freeing 
themselves from this bondage. The representative 
elements involved in the representation zebra do not 
originally arise without some presentative elements. 
Once however, the given representation has definitely 
arisen we may imagine the zebra without actually per- 
ceiving it. In the midst of a conversation, or in the 
midst of an engaging study, the image of a tiger, or of 



354 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

a palm seen in some distant country may rise clearly 
and vividly before the mind's eye, and temporarily in- 
terrupt the course and trend of our thought. 

While I am writing these lines a fleeing copperhead, a 
pulsating vorticella, a fish's tail, a cow's head and a puff- 
ing steam engine have flashed across my mental field and 
gone. They may be ultimately traced to some sensory 
stimulus and positive after images, but these are far in 
the background of consciousness and remain unnoticed. 
Representative elements come and go in consciousness, 
they appear independently of all other elements, they 
are essentially free elements. We call this coming and 
going of these independent elements the "free play of 
the imagination." 

Where sensory elements appear in synthetized com- 
pounds, or in the precept, they cannot be separated, 
they are firmly bound together. It is only in repre- 
sentation that the corresponding representative ele- 
ments free thmselves from the bonds of union which 
the sensory elements cannot throw off. The orange 
yonder is a synthetized compound of many sensory 
elements, primary and secondary, but as long as they 
remain sensory the elements are kept in union and can- 
not be dissociated. Such a dissociation, however, is 
fully possible with the representative elements enter- 
ing into the representation of the orange. We can think 
of its color, size, shape, weight, smell and taste sepa- 
rately. 

The freedom of the representative elements is clear- 
ly brought out in the so-called free play of the imagi- 
nation. Sensory elements are synthetized in the com- 
pound in definite relations which cannot possibly be 
severed unless the stimuli are rearranged, and in many 



Presentations and Representations 355 

cases the sensory elements do not admit even of that 
procedure. The sensory elements in the perception 
of a particular object, say a house, have definite rela- 
tions which cannot be modified without first changing 
the color, structure, shape, size, of the house and rear- 
ranging its relative parts. In imagination or repre- 
sentation, however, all that is done in less than no 
time, without in the least interfering with the external 
stimuli. 

Representative elements manifest even more free- 
dom. In many cases a modification of certain relations 
in the sensory elements cannot possibly be effected, be- 
cause the relations of the external stimuli constituting 
what may be termed the external object do not admit 
of a rearrangement. Thus we cannot have the mouth 
of the horse on his back, horns growing out of his 
sides, the mane on his hind parts and the tail on his 
brow. We can, however, easily accomplish such a re- 
arrangement in our imagination. Furthermore, in rep- 
resentation psychic elements appear in combinations of 
which sensory elements do not admit. Pegasus, a 
horse with wings; mermaid, a being half woman half 
fish; centaurus, a being half man and half horse, and 
other combinations of the most impossible character, as 
far as sensory elements are concerned, may be formed 
in representation. 

At first representative elements are started by sensa- 
tions and are thus far bound up with them, but they 
gradually free themselves from it. Thus in a baby un- 
der my close observation, the representative element 
never came unless the object was present. If the ob- 
ject was taken away, he soon forgot it. In the un- 
educated mind even of a high type of moment-con- 



356 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

sciousness representations are still bound up with pre- 
sentations. The gossip can keep on talking as long as 
the thought is fixed on the concrete. Persons who lack 
scientific, conceptual thought cannot grasp an abstract 
general proposition without having it first expressed in 
concrete terms, or fixed in sensory pictures. The sav- 
age gets a headache when his thought is forced to 
flow in a stream of representation. In the imbecile, 
in the idiot we find the same thing manifested. They 
can only think in concrete sensory terms. In mental 
asthenia which approaches the state of the higher 
stages of imbecility and also in secondary dementia, 
states consequent on psychic degeneration, we find 
the same truth illustrated. The patient's men- 
tal activity falls many stages nearer to the level of pre- 
sentative life. It is only in the higher forms of psychic 
life that representative elements become free, inde- 
pendent, and are freely and easily associated and dis- 
sociated. 

If looked at from the standpoint of control, we find 
that sensory elements, on account of their fixed rela- 
tions in the combinations and compounds in which they 
enter, are uncontrollable. The compound with all its 
sensory elements, primary and secondary, is given, and 
cannot directly be controlled; it is highly stable, it re- 
sists attempts at decomposition. The combinations, 
however, formed of the free representative elements 
are of unstable equilibrium, the elements can be easily 
shifted, displaced, rearranged, easily dissociated, and 
new combinations formed. The mode of function of 
the representative element is free association. 

Even when entering into the associative play the rep- 
resentative elements do not blend and fuse so as not to 



Presentations and Representations 357 

be discriminated. Representative elements certainly do 
not float about without entering with others into some 
form of association, but in the very association and com- 
bination they still manage to preserve relatively their 
freedom and independence. The sensory elements in 
the compound are so blended and fused that they can- 
not be discriminated in the compound without some ef- 
fort and under special artificial conditions. Oculo-mo- 
tor sensations, the estimation of the visual angle, of the 
size of the image thrown on the retina are not so very 
evident in the direct perception of the external object. 
Tactual and muscular sensations are not so very clear 
in our perception of space, nor are our rhythmical, res- 
piratory and kinaesthetic sensations quite obvious in our 
estimation of time. The free associations, however, into 
which representative elements enter give full scope to 
their components. The elements are combined without 
at the same time losing their individuality; they remain 
clearly defined in their nature and outlines in relation to 
the other elements with which they form combinations. 
Representations, however, presuppose presentative 
life, they constitute the intermediate stages of which 
presentations form the termini. Representations begin 
and end with presentations. At the same time it should 
be clearly held in mind that while representation refers 
to presentation, it is by no means true that representa- 
tions can be analyzed into sensory elements in the same 
way as a living organism can be analyzed into elemen- 
tary cells. The living organism is made up, is consti- 
tuted by elementary cells; cells form the organism. Rep- 
resentations, however, are not formed out of presenta- 
tive elements, sensory elements, sensation elements. Sen- 
sory processes do not enter into the make-up of a repre- 



3$S Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

sentation. Just as the sensation black is not black, so is 
the idea or representation of black not a sensation 
'black.' 



CHAPTER XIX 

REPRESENTATIONS AND THE LAWS OF THEIR COMBINA- 
TIONS 

REPRESENTATIVE elements form what 
may be characterized as mental trains. The 
elements of a mental train are connected by 
relations of contiguity, resemblance, and con- 
trast. Association by contiguity depends on the fre- 
quency, recency with which the elements have been as- 
sociated, while resemblance and contrast may be re- 
garded as two or more mental trains of representative 
elements associated by contiguity, crossing and inter- 
secting in a few points, in other words having some ele- 
ment in common. From this standpoint associations by 
resemblance and contrast are often regarded as cases of 
contiguity which is therefore considered as the mode of 
association characteristic of representative elements. 
From another standpoint, however, resemblance may 
equally be considered as fundamental. It is nearer to 
the truth to regard both contiguity and resemblance or 
similarity as fundamental modes of association of repre- 
sentative elements. 

Association by contiguity may be expressed in the fol- 
lowing general proposition : Ideas or images which have 
frequently followed one another tend to recur in the 
same order. If a, b, c, d, e be images or ideas that 
have frequently followed each other in a definite order 
of succession, then the tendency is that the ideas or im- 
ages will occur in the same order, if the initial idea or 
image is awakened. Thus if a, b, c, d, e, be that order, 

359 



360 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

then if a is awaken the rest, b, c, d, e, tend to emerge 
in the same order in which they have followed each oth- 
er previously. 

The formula for association by contiguity may be 
expressed as follows : a+b+c+d+e-h .... 

Representative elements, however, as we have pointed 
out are derivative, they are functions of sensory com- 
pounds, and vary concomitantly with the wealth and dif- 
ferentiation of sensory life-experience. Blind people 
have no visual images, nor can deaf persons form any 
idea of a sound. Although representative elements are 
essentially different in nature from sensory elements and 
their compounds, still it remains true that sensory ex- 
perience is the soil from which the rich variety of rep- 
resentative life grows up. Sensory elements and their 
compounds are prerequisites of representations of their 
combination and organization. 

The course of associative relations of representations 
may be determined by the course of sensory series. If 
a series of sensations and perceptions have frequently 
followed each other pretty uniformly, then their cor- 
responding representations will tend to recur in the 
same uniform order. Let A, B, C, D, E. . . . be the 
order of succession of the sensory series, then the order 
of the series of representations will be: a, b, c, d, e. . . . 
When sensation A with its corresponding representation 
a are awakened, or if a alone occurs, then the rest of the 
series of representations tend to emerge. The formula 
for association of contiguity may be somewhat modified 
and represented as follows : 

a b c d e .... Representations 

A B C D E .... Presentations 



Representations and Laws of Combinations 361 

A+a-h(b J rc+d+e), or simply a+ (&+<;+ d+e) ... . 

B+b+(c-\-d~\-e), or simply b+tc+d+e) .... 

We have shown that ideas and images are associated 
with motor and physical reactions, hence muscular 
movements or rather kinaesthetic sensations and their 
representations also enter the circle of the associative 
series. The series of representations gives rise to move- 
ments which in their turn give rise to kinaesthetic sensa- 
tions, and these in turn may either give rise to another 
series of representations, or may maintain the same ser- 
ies. Hartley, the father of English associationism, who 
reduced all association to contiguity, states his doctrine 
of association in the following general proposition : 

"If any sensation A, idea B or muscular motion C, be 
associated for a sufficient number of times with any oth- 
er sensation D, idea E, or muscular motion F, it will at 
last excite d, the simple idea belonging to the sensation 
D, the very idea E or the very muscular motion F." 

Turning now to association by similarity we find that 
the relations of the elements are somewhat more com 
plex than in that of contiguity. Where mental life is com- 
plex and where there are present many different trains 
of ideas and images, there will be a tendency for them to 
cross and intersect at many points. The course of a 
given train of ideas and images instead of running in 
its habitual line will tend to become deflected along oth- 
er lines and give rise to that particular form of associa- 
tion of representative elements known as association by 
similarity and contrasts. 

Let a, b, c, d, e, f, be one series and let p, b, g, r, m, 
another series, q, r, k, I, n, a third series and s, I, x, y, z 
a fourth series and so on. The course of association in- 
stead of running along one line of habitual association 



362 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

determined by contiguity will tend to run on new lines. 
The course may be represented as follows : 
a, — b, — c, — d, — e, — f 

i 
p, — b, — g, — r, — m 



q, — r, — k,- 



s, — 1, — x, — y, — z 
Let each series be represented by a row of squares 
formed into a rectangle and let each crossing series be 
representd by a similar rectangle intersecting the pre- 
ceding one at right angles, then the course of associa- 
tion by similarity may be diagrammatically represented 
as follows: 




The course of the mental train of ideas is changed and 
deflected along lines which are otherwise unhabitual for 
the particular mental train. In association by similarity 
the mental train ever corruscates along new lines. 



Representations and Laws of Combinations 363 

Association by similarity may be expressed in the gen- 
eral proposition: like states often follow each other. 
What that likeness consists in we have already seen, — 
it is some common characters, some representative ele- 
ments which two or more crossing trains of contiguous 
representations possess in common. The crossing of 
one train by another at a point where the representa- 
tions have common features is purely accidental, as far 
as the crossed train is concerned; it is the play of the 
imagination. As an illustration of such a crossing of 
trains we may take the example when one, from a ser- 
ies of images and ideas about the recent Americo-Span- 
ish war, is led to think of the Anglo-Spanish war in the 
1 6th Century, the common representation being the de- 
struction of the Spanish fleet ; and from the mental train 
on the Anglo-Spanish war to the Franco-Prussian war 
the common representation being invasion, and from 
this to the Napoleonic war, then to the political affairs 
of France, and thence, to the peace conference 
of European powers. The course of the trains of ideas 
is every time deflected along new channels. The deflec- 
tion depends largely on the complexity and number of 
the trains and their activity. 

The relation of likeness is present not only in trains 
of representations, but also in presentations or in what 
is termed by us psychic compounds. Thus twins we 
say look alike, so do eggs, so do animals of the same 
species; a picture say of a landscape looks like the actual 
landscape, and a portrait or statue resembles the orig- 
inal. In all these examples the likeness is constituted by 
the sensory elements common to the presented psychic 
compound. Not that the sensory elements are ex- 
actly the same; subjectively considered, they may be 



364 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

totally different in their psychic stuff, in the psychic re- 
lations that cluster about them, as no two sensations, no 
two psychic compounds, are really the same, as far as 
the mental state is concerned, but they refer to the same 
characters in the external object. It is this common ref- 
erence to the same traits or characters in the external ob- 
ject that constitutes the bond of association of likeness 
in sensory element or psychic compound. On the same 
grounds may be explained the likeness between the rep- 
resentations and the psychic compound, the percept, 
which it represents. 







CHAPTER XX 

REPRESENTATION AND RECOGNITION 

IF from the general consideration on the modes of 
combinations or free association characteristic of 
representations, we turn to analyse the nature of 
the moment with representative elements as con- 
tent, we find that it differs essentially from the synthetic 
and desultory moments. A close inspection of the char- 
acter of representations reveals the fact of its differ- 
ence from presentation-elements. A representative 
element is neither of the nature of the primary nor 
of the secondary sensory elements, it differs from both 
in the character of its psychic "stuff." The difference 
consists in the fact that a representative element is not 
cognitive, but recognitive. 

As far as the cognitive aspect is concerned the 
chief characteristic of the synthetic and desultory 
moments, having sensory elements only as their 
content, is the direct reference to the object, to the 
relations of the external environment, while the 
characteristic feature of the moment, having mainly rep- 
resentative elements as its constituent, is the indirect ref- 
erence to external relations. In other words, the sen- 
sory elements of the synthetic and desultory moments 
have immediate cognition, while the representative ele- 
ments of the moment now under consideration has me- 
diate cognition, or recognition. I see the book lying on 
my table, I close my eyes and represent to myself the 
whole thing over again. As I look out of the window 

365 



366 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

I see a house, a horse and carriage standing near by; I 
close my eyes and imagine the whole situation over 
again. We say then, incorrectly though, that the repre- 
sentation is a copy of the presentation. Evidently the 
representation is regarded as not being the same as the 
presentation just as a copy is really not the same as the 
original. The psychic elements of representation have 
the function of cognizing again, or what is more correct 
to say the function of re-cognition which constitutes 
the very essence of representation. In representation 
events are lived over again without the actual recur- 
rence of those experiences. In representation the mo- 
ment becomes independent of the present, it becomes 
free from its immediate environment. 

In order that a representation be a true "copy" of 
its original, it must be cognized as a "copy," that is, it 
must be cognized as something already cognized, in oth- 
er words, it must be recognized. This function of re- 
cognition is the sine qua non of representation. The 
image, representation, or idea of a table is not itself a 
table, nor is it a synthetized sensory compound refer- 
ring to the object, table, it is a psychic element referring 
to the sensory compound on its objective aspect. The 
representation of the table does not refer directly to the 
table as it is the case in the sensory compound, but to the 
table as perceived. The image or representation refers 
not to the object immediately, but mediately, to the ob- 
ject as object of the sensory compound. Hence the ob- 
ject is cognized over in representation, in other words, 
is recognized. 

This recognition may be of a general or of a specific 
character. The function of recognition in its general 
aspect is manifested in the idea. The idea possesses 



Representation and Recognition 367 

this function of general recognition. The idea "man" 
recognizes its content in a general way, it refers to man 
in general, but does not identify its content with any 
particular individual. I may represent to myself an ob- 
ject recognized as a table, not as any particular table, 
and I may also represent this particular table on which 
I am writing. The representation I have of my friend 
John refers specifically to John not to any one else. As 
in my imagination I scrutinize the features of my 
friend's face, I all along recognize that it is my friend's 
countenance. Recognition, general as well as particu- 
lar, is involved in the very function of representation. 

In immediate perception itself there is no recogni- 
tion present. It is not true to fact to say that in the 
perception of a horse we recognize the object by per- 
ceiving it as horse and not as anything else. The fact 
that I perceive the object as it is depends entirely on 
the sensory compound which has cognition as the func- 
tion of its psychic character. The sensory component, 
the percept horse, is the cognition of the object "horse." 

Some psychologists attempt to find the origin of rec- 
ognition in the feeling of familiarity. Familiarity, how- 
ever, is not a primary state out of which recognition de- 
velops, but on the contrary recognition is the primary 
state and familiarity is derivative only. Familiarity is 
simply the feeling of vague, marginal, or subconscious 
recognition. Of course, if by the term familiarity is 
meant not that psychic state observed in the adult con- 
sciousness, both abnormal and normal, but that primary 
state of recognition out of which more definite recogni- 
tion develops, then it may be admitted that familiarity 
is the germ of recognition, but then it is only the giving 
of a special term "familiarity" to an elementary form of 



368 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

recognition. The definite form of recognition devel- 
ops out of the indefinite form of recognition, recogni- 
tion must be a primary element. Recognition then 
is an irreducible mode of psychic activity characteristic 
of representative mental life. 

Some psychologists regard familiarity as a pure 'feel- 
ing of at homeness' or as Fouillee puts it in the decrease 
of the inward shock of surprise. This is however to 
put the cart before the horse. It is not the feeling 
of familiarity that gives rise to recognition, but it is 
vague, indistinct, marginal, or subconscious recognition 
that gives rise to the feeling of familiarity. When a 
person, a scene, an event, or situation is familiar, 
the psychic state is one of having gone through the 
same experience before. We cannot localize its date in 
our scheme of time on which we project our past experi- 
ences. We have experienced the same before, but we 
ask ourselves, — where and when have we seen that per- 
son, the scene or the situation before? Often we succeed 
in forming a complete association with the past, we lo- 
calize the given familiar experience, and then complete 
recognition ensues. Familiarity is incomplete, vague, 
indefinite recognition. 

The peculiar experience of a present novel situation 
as having experienced or lived through the same before 
has been mystically referred to a previous existence, the 
theory of Platonic reminiscence, The explanation, how- 
ever, of this phenomenon is quite simple, inasmuch 
that it can be shown that in such cases some 
similar experience had been gone through before. The 
subject cannot close the circuit, so to say, and effect a 
connection with his previous life experiences, he cannot 
associate fully the present experience with his form- 



Representation and Recognition 369 

cr experience and localize it in his past. Other cases of 
such familiarity are brought about by states of dissocia- 
tion. The patient perceives, goes through experiences 
in one state and vaguely remembers them in another. 
Such states of familiarity or imperfect recognition can 
be found in pre-epileptic states, in post-hypnotic condi- 
tions, in hypnoidal twilight states, and other subcon- 
scious dissociative states. 

In regard to this phenomenon of general familiarity 
almost amounting to recognition without attaining it 
James makes the following pertinent remarks which 
fully bears out the fact that recognition is primary and 
is at the basis of what we term the sense of familiarity. 
"There is a curious experience" says James "which 
everyone seems to have had — the feeling that the pres- 
ent moment in its completeness has been experienced be- 
fore — we were saying just the thing, in just this place, 
to just these people, etc. This 'sense of pre-existence' 
has been treated as a great mystery and occasioned much 
speculation I must confess that the quality of mys- 
tery seems to me a little strained. I have over and over 
again in my own case succeeded in resolving the phe- 
nomenon into a case of memory, so indistinct that while 
some past circumstances are presented again, the others 
are not. The dissimilar portions of the past do not 
arise completely enough for the date to be identified. 
All we get is the present scene with a general suggestion 
of pastness about it." I may say the same thing in my 
own case. Whenever I find in myself the presence of 
some obscure form of familiarity, I can invariably trace 
it to some vague, indistinct memory of an experience 
lived through some time before. The same holds true 
in the case of patients, as well as of my experiments car- 



370 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

ried out on subjects in subconscious states, hypnotic, 
post-hypnotic, hypnoidal, and others. 

When an experience enters into a number of systems, 
or as James would put it into a number of "settings," 
then the special character of the "setting" becomes con- 
fused or even obliterated. The experience present calls 
forth so many different systems or "settings" that the 
recognition element lapses and reverts to the psychic 
state characteristic of the lower forms of moment con- 
sciousness, passing through the more elementary forms 
of recognition to cognition. When the recognitive mo- 
ment reproduces itself so that it becomes habitual and 
automatic, it falls in the scale of psychic life and reverts 
to the type of a lower moment. 

A psychic state which recurs under a great number 
of conditions and circumstances loses all special and 
local psychic color, so to say, and hence becomes de- 
graded in the type of its mental activity. All 
ordinary experiences which have been recognized 
over and over again, all sorts and conditions of 
mental life, under different and opposite tendencies, feel- 
ings and emotions, under various settings and conflicting 
systems cease to be surrounded by a nimbus of pastness 
and become cognitive in character. When too often re- 
peated the experience becomes so much worn by use, if 
we may use such an expression, that it can no longer be 
reproduced voluntarily in consciousness. Thus a strange 
face seen a few times or only once can be clearly repre- 
sented, but the faces of familiar people with whom we 
are in constant intercourse can no longer be clearly re- 
produced and represented. Such a reproduction can only 
be brought about by a perceptual state, or by various 
subconscious states, such as dreams, hypnosis, or hyp- 



Representation and Recognition 371 

noidal state. In such cases there is present a feeling of 
familiarity due to the series of recognitions and cogni- 
tions. Familiarity here is lapsed recognition. 

James brings it out clearly: "If a phenomenon is met 
with, however, too often, and with too great a variety 
of contexts, although its image is retained and repro- 
duced with correspondingly great facility, it fails to 
come up with any one particular setting and the projec- 
tion of it backwards to a particular past date conse- 
quently does not come about. We recognize but do not 
remember it — its associates form too confused a cloud." 
In other words, recognition does not reach its full de- 
velopment. There is recognition of the phenomenon 
as such, but not as having had the experience in the 
past. The halo of pastness is gone. James quotes 
Spencer "To ask a man whether he remembers that the 
sun shines, that fire burns, that iron is hard, would be a 
misuse of language. Even the almost fortuitous con- 
nections among our experiences cease to be classed as 
memories, when they have become thoroughly familiar. 
Though on hearing the voice of some unseen person 
slightly known to us, we say we recollect to whom the 
voice belongs, we do not use the same expression re- 
specting the voices of those with whom we live. The 
meanings of words which in childhood have to be con- 
sciously recalled seem in adult life to be immediately 
present. 

"James then goes on saying" : "These are the 
cases where too many paths, leading to too diverse as- 
sociates, block each other's way, and all that the mind 
gets along with its object is a fringe of felt familiarity 
or sense that there are associates. A similar result comes 
about when a definite setting is only nascently aroused. 



372 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

We then feel that we have seen the object already, but 
when or where we cannot say, though we may seem to 
ourselves to be on the brink of saying it. That nascent 
cerebral excitation can affect consciousness with a sort 
of sense of the imminence of that which stronger excita- 
tions would make us definitely feel, is obvious from 
what happens when we seek to remember a name. It 
tingles, it trembles on the verge, but does not come. 
Just such a tingling and trembling of unrecovered asso- 
ciates is the penumbra of recognition that may surround 
any experience and make it seem familiar, though we 
know not why." In other words, imperfect, diffused 
recognition with no special system, or setting to come in 
live contact with and be localized in a mental series of 
an individual moment consciousness fails to give that 
mental synthesis which is the essential characteristic of 
the fully developed moment-consciousness. Recognition 
of an experience lived through in the past is the basis of 
what is known as the sense of familiarity. 

Perhaps we may refer to the Bergsonian view of rec- 
ognition, namely that recognition is interrelated with 
and based on special motor adaptations. "Every per- 
ception" says Bergson "has its organized motor accom- 
paniment, the ordinary feeling of recognition has its 
roots in the consciousness of this organization." While 
it is true that recognition deals with the use of objects 
and with special adaptations to the external environ- 
ment, as far as such recognition is expressed in motor 
adjustments, it can hardly be said that this view holds 
true of recognition in general. In the process of rec- 
ognition it is not the motor accompaniment, it is the 
feeling of sameness of experience, the feeling of past- 
ness with its localization in a series of "settings" or of 



Representation and Recognition 373 

systems that go to form the main elements. 

I must say that the motor accompaniments have been 
too much overworked in our psychological theories. We 
have carried over into our philosophy, such as pragma- 
tism, and into our psychology of recent years too much 
of the haste and whirl of the exchange and the shop. 
Everything is motor and everything is practical. This is 
a reflection of our present industrial age in the domain of 
the mind. Perhaps it expresses well the tendency of the 
modern philosophical and psychological trend of trans- 
muting every thing into motion when psychologists de- 
scribe themselves as being "motor men on the psycho- 
logical car." 

Recognition is not motion at least from a psycho- 
logical standpoint, unless like Bergson we resort to 
the metaphysical, pan-psychistic argument of reducing 
motion to independent objective images as constituting 
the nature of external reality. Barring such metaphysi- 
cal speculations that, as we have pointed out, have no 
place in psychology which must keep strictly to the dif- 
ference between the external and internal, to the oppo- 
sition of the objective reality of the material world and 
of the subjective reality of the mental world, different 
spheres of phenomena which should not be reduced one 
to the other, we cannot help realizing the fact that there 
is far more of the character of recognition in mental 
states in which the motor element is insignificant or nil, 
such as sensations, ideas, memories, thought reasoning 
and so on than there is in the automatic reflex reactions 
of behavior and motor adjustments. When we see col- 
or green and recognize that we have seen it the day be- 
fore we can hardly speak of a motor element present in 
recognition. When I think of the Bergsonian theory of 



374 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

memory, or recognition and remember of my thinking 
about it the night before and disagreeing with it, the 
motor element can only enter by a great strain of imagi- 
nation. If there are any motor elements they hardly 
play any significant part in the process of memory and 
recognition. We must deny emphatically the signifi- 
cance and importance of the motor element in recogni- 
tion. The essential element in recognition is not the 
motor, but the psychic elements. 

Bergson himself is driven to take this aspect of recog- 
nition when he develops his theory of pure memory with 
no action in contradistinction to the memory which in- 
serts itself edgewise into the flux of sensori-motor adap- 
tations. Bergson not without some contradiction 
strongly contrasts the true pure memory with the 
memory image sharply inserted into the plane of action. 
If we grant Bergson that such pure unadulterated mem- 
ories are present, memories free from all motor reac- 
tions, then we must necessarily agree to the fact that 
remembrance, recollection, and hence recognition can 
exist without any motor accompaniments. In other 
words, recognition cannot be resolved into action, into 
motor accompaniments, into behavior and reactions. 
Recognition is a psychic quale sui generis. 

Each set of particular representative elements carries 
along, as James terms it, its special "setting" or 
as I describe it "system." It is this special set- 
ting that helps the process of recognition in having 
the particular experience projected in the past, in having 
it oriented among many other systems of associations 
and having it localized in its particular past. Recogni- 
tion then arises when the present experience calls forth 
its special system, or setting in a series of mental events. 
The present experience must close with the past experi- 



Representation and Recognition 375 

ence and form a circuit. At the same time the experi- 
ence must not be short-circuited, because in such a case 
we have a state of dissociation. The present experience 
must form a circuit with its system or setting and with 
the personality as a whole. Recognition thus requires a 
special setting in the complex web and woof of the 
present total moment consciousness constituting the in- 
dividuality of the subject. 

In the higher forms of mental life where self-con- 
sciousness is developed, the experience forms a live cir- 
cuit, so to say, with the whole personality. The higher 
states of recognition appear in the form of the "I" con- 
sciousness. "It is I who experienced all that in my past. 
It is I who remembers that this bit of experience has 
taken place in 'my' experience some time ago." There 
is the my present self thinking of the experience as lived 
through by my past self. 

In the lower forms of recognition where the 
self is not present, as in the higher vertebrates and 
possibly in infants, there exists the present cogni- 
tion of the experience and the re-cognition of it 
in the shape of a vague memory that it had been experi- 
enced before. The present experience of an already ex- 
perienced event floats in a cloud of pastness. It is this 
psychic state of pastness in a present experience that 
makes it felt to the subject who experiences it — as re- 
current and recognitive. Of course, not every recurrent 
experience, even of the higher types of moments is 
recognitive, as there are psychopathic recurrent states 
which, like the lower forms of moment-consciousness, 
recur and reproduce themselves with no element of rec- 
ognition present. We can, however, fully assert that 
every recognitive experience is recurrent. Recognition 
requires former or past experience. 



CHAPTER XXI 

THE RECOGNITIVE MOMENT AND ITS REPRODUCTION 

RECOGNITION is one of the essential attri- 
butes of representative life. The faintest 
and most obscure representation requires the 
presence of recognition in the background. 
We may say that without recognition representation be- 
comes an impossibility. Recognition is the function of 
representative elements. Just as cognition is the func- 
tion of sensory, presentative elements so recognition, or 
secondary cognition is the function of representative ele- 
ments. Now that moment consciousness which has rep- 
resentative elements among the constituents of its content 
may be termed recognitive moment-consciousness. 

The recognitive moment is of a higher type than the 
synthetic moment. Like the synthetic moment, mater- 
ial or psychic content of the recognitive moment is as- 
similated in a synthetized form; like the synthetic mo- 
ment, it goes on reproducing not on the desultory, but 
on the accumulative type; and moreover, it approaches 
more the compound, accumulative type. Unlike the syn- 
thetic moment, the recognitive moment is possessed of 
representative elements having recognition as their 
function. Representative elements with their function 
of recognition, present in the recognitive moment, but 
absent in the other lower moments, make a fundamental 
difference in the nature of reproduction. 

The reproduction of the recognitive moment is to- 
tally different in character from that of the desultory 

376 



Recognitive Moment and Its Reproduction 377 

and synthetic moments. In the desultory and synthetic 
moments reproduction is effected by means of presenta- 
tive elements, and actual recurrence of former experi- 
ence is indispensable ; in the recognitive moment nothing 
of the kind is required. The reproduction of the recog- 
nitive moment is effected only in representation. The 
moment with its sensory elements is not reproduced as 
recurrence, but only symbolized, or truer to say substi- 
tuted in meaning or in function by the representative 
elements. The representative element, the image, the 
idea is recognized as functioning as a substitute, as 
standing for the presence of the actual experience of the 
original moment with its nuclear primary and secondary 
sensory elements. In the higher stages of the moment 
this recognition may become detached, and the act of 
recognition may become duplicated and emphasized in 
another subsequent representation. In reality, however, 
both in the lower and higher forms of the recognitive 
moment, the fact of recognition belongs directly to the 
representation itself; for as we have pointed out recog- 
nition is an essential function of representation. 

Just as sensory elements express, or present the 
qualities of the external object, so do representa- 
tive elements mirror the psychic objects as presented 
to sense-experience. This relation may be expressed in 
a proportional form : as presentation is to the external 
object so is representation to the presented object. 
In the higher forms of the recognitive moment the rep- 
resentation can be once more represented and this latter 
is represented in its turn, each subsequent reproduction 
representing, substituting and mirroring the preceding 
one. Thus I may see the child yonder playing with its 
ball, I may represent to myself the whole scene, and 



378 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

may further represent to myself the fact of representa- 
tion itself which in its turn may be once more represent- 
ed, and so on. The content of the recognitive moment 
in this mode of reproduction, becomes more and more 
modified, more and more different as it proceeds along 
this line, becomes further and further removed from the 
original experienced moment with its sensory elements. 

In the more prevalent forms of the recognitive mo- 
ment the process of reproduction does not proceed in 
this way; reproduction keeps nearer to the lower types, 
to the content of the types of the synthetic moments, or, 
in other words, it keeps nearer to sense-experience. The 
representation has a direct reference to the object as 
presented in sense-experience, and in its reproduction 
this direct reference is more or less preserved through- 
out. 

The recognitive moment is every time reproduced in 
representation, and although having different represen- 
tative elements with each successive reproduction, it still 
refers to the same object as presented. The modifica- 
tions that occur in the moment take place only in the 
representative elements. Adaptations, instead of tak- 
ing place by means of changes in the sensory elements 
due to successive modification effected by the direct in- 
fluence of stimuli from external environment, are now 
freed from the direct influence of external conditions, 
and may be effected within the representative elements 
of the moment itself, without having recourse to the 
modifying influence of stimuli. 

We have already shown that the characteristic trait 
of representative elements is their freedom from the 
bondage in accumulations or compounds in which sen- 
sory elements are kept; representative elements can be 



Recognitive Moment and Its Reproduction 379 

easily transposed, they can enter into new free associa- 
tions without requiring special external stimuli to break 
the stable compound. The free associations of repre- 
sentative elements may be dissolved by other representa- 
tions. The stick lying near by may be kicked away by 
my foot, but may also be represented as a support; it 
may be imaged as a means of defense and attack, and 
finally the representation may be changed in another di- 
rection, the stick may be used as an instrument for 
bringing down apples from a tree. Adaptation is 
effected within the process of representation before any 
changes are introduced into actual, presentative life. 

From a teleological standpoint one can realize the 
great gain in the economy of life reactions by a mode 
of reproduction independent of and free from the direct 
influence of external stimuli with their consequent sen- 
sory responses and motor reactions, resulting in further 
and further modifications of the original moment. The 
recognitive moment in its growth and development by a 
series of internal representative modifications spares it- 
self ill adapted sensory responses and motor reactions. 
This is an immense gain to life, a great aid and power- 
ful weapon in the struggle for existence. 

Regarded from this standpoint of modification the 
moment-consciousness may be said to pass through im- 
portant stages in the course of its development. The 
stage of non-mo disability of content, then the stage of 
modifiability of the sensori-motor content, and finally 
modifiability in representation. The special importance 
of the recognitive moment for the being possessing it is 
the greater freedom from the dominion of the external 
environment. External conditions are not so literally, 
so slavishly reflected in the moment. Changes may oc- 



380 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

cur in sensori-motor reactions and adaptations due to 
representations alone, without any previous material 
changes in the external conditions. The recognitive 
moment carries its external world in itself, in its repre- 
sentation, and by affecting changes there, may bring 
about changes in the environment, thus controlling 
external conditions, instead of being controlled by them. 
Instead of being driven by external forces into blind 
obedience, into unintelligent adaptations, the moment is 
on the point, even in its lowest forms, to acquire some 
intelligent character in seeing ahead, by living over its 
former experiences in the states of representation, the 
sensori-motor reactions being accordingly modified. 

The reproduction of the recognitive moment is not 
induced by external stimuli only, but mainly by the 
course of other representations. Without actually being 
confronted with the object the representation of it may 
any time arise in the mind and call forth new adapta- 
tions to the external environment. 

The representation by which the recognitive moment 
effects its reproduction is not at all a mode of reinstate- 
ment, partial or complete, a mode characteristic of the 
lower types of moments. What the moment reproduces 
is altogether different in nature and content from what 
has been experienced, or directly presented. What is 
presented is sensory material, what is reproduced is im- 
agery, ideal "stuff." Imagery, ideal stuff as it is, it still 
mirrors, substitutes, represents the "material" certainty 
of sensory experience. 

From the very nature of the moment and mode of 
its reproduction the original emotional tone of the 
experience is not reproduced by the recognitive mo- 
ment. The emotional tone like the rest of the 



Recognitive Moment and Its Reproduction 381 

psychic content is represented in recognitive repro- 
duction, but not actually reproduced. The great 
gain of it from a biological standpoint is momentous, 
since the moment's reaction can be better adapted to the 
changing conditions of its environment. The repre- 
sentative elements entering into the idea or image of 
an object change from reproduction to reproduction 
but they always mirror, refer to the same sensory ele- 
ments and compounds ; they recognize their object. 

The recognition of an object or an event, however 
vague, means some experience that has been lived 
through before. In other words, the representation, al- 
though experienced, as a present psychic element, must 
have a glow of pastness about it. Representation is a 
present experience referring to a past life, to an event 
that is passing or that has passed away. Representa- 
tion with its function of recognition is a reference to the 
past. 

This reference to the past may range from the in- 
definite to the highly definite localization of experience 
referred to the time past. This depends on the devel- 
opment of the moment, of its place in the scale of evo- 
lution. The higher the moment the more definite, the 
lower the less definite the localization is. The dog in 
recognizing his master, Ulysses, hardly knew the length 
of time the hero had been away in his battles and wan- 
derings, although the dog possibly had a dim feeling of 
pastness, revealing it by the great joy manifested at 
seeing his master, as if his long delayed expectations 
have been finally fulfilled. If dogs are capable of rec- 
ognition at all, some vague feeling of pastness is pres- 
ent in the recognitive moment, however low it may 
stand in the scale of development. 



382 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

In the child we find that the time localization 
is quite indefinite. In very young children the fu- 
ture and the past such as yesterday and to-morrow 
have no definite meaning. Thus in children of three 
years that have come under my observation the appre- 
hension of the past and future, such as yesterday and 
to-morrow is still wanting. When the child is told that 
something took place, he referred it to a "yesterday" in- 
definitely localized in the past. The day before, a week 
ago, a month ago, years past are equally projected into 
the vague past. The same holds true of the child-sense 
of the future. "When is to-morrow?" is a question I 
have been often asked by intelligent children of three, 
four and even five years old. The child recognizes his 
old friend after a departure of several months, but he 
localizes this event far off in time, say "yesterday." 

The reference to the past becomes more and more 
definitely localized in time, the higher the recognitive 
moment rises in the scale of evolution. This process of 
localization of the recognized event in the past depends 
entirely on the time-sense becoming fully definite with 
the more or less greater perfection of the conceptual 
time scheme. Thus savages and the ignorant classes 
of even civilized societies have an imperfect form 
of time localization. The definiteness of localiza- 
tion, however, is not of material consequence as far as 
our point of view is concerned. For all we know 
Ulysses' dog, the ape and the infant have no time-local- 
ization at all, what is enough to state from our psycho- 
logical standpoint is the fact that recognition involves 
some form of pastness belonging to the implicated rep- 
resentative element, a pastness which in a higher stage 
becomes time-localization. 



Recognitive Moment and Its Reproduction 383 

Under the influence of toxic matter, of narcotics, and 
in some forms of mental diseases, this time-sense may 
swell, thus giving rise to the projection of experience on 
a larger scale of objective time. Such states are to be 
found under the influence of opium or cannabis, also 
in some mental diseases when the patient claims that he 
is many centuries old. This function of recognition 
with its aspect of pastness is certainly present in the 
passing recognitive moment. The process becomes more 
complicated and also more objectified in the higher 
types of moment-consciousness. In short, the recogni- 
tive moment-consciousness in addition to its reproduc- 
tion involves some form of awareness of its being a re- 
production by its reference to a past experience. Be- 
ing freed from its bondage to the present circumstances, 
living in the by-gone past the recognitive moment gets 
a glimpse of the not yet born future into which the free 
representative elements are projected. 



CHAPTER XXII 

THE SYNTHETIC RECOGNITIVE MOMENT 

THE recognitive moment in its reproductions 
may be arranged in a series. The first link 
in the series is the sensory elements or com- 
pound. Let this be expressed by A where A 
is the sensory experience, and let a be the representation 
of the first reproduction, the next reproduction may be 
represented by a* and the succeeding series by a», a*, a*, 

a*, a«, Each one of the series refers directly to 

state A with its external object. Each of them recog- 
nizes in the reproduced representation the represented, 
formerly perceived object of the primary state A. Each 
link in the series makes easier the occurrence of the suc- 
ceeding one. The series forms a progression in which 
the link further removed from the beginning differs to a 
certain degree from the ones that preceded it. This 
progressive difference is due to the continuous progress- 
sive modifications effected in each successive link by the 
occurrence or reproduction of the preceding links. The 
process is one and continuous, and with the progress of 
the series of reproductions each following link becomes 
modified, emerges with greater ease, while the recogni- 
tion is effected without any difficulty. Each previous 
recognition makes the next one easier. 

In the character of its modification the lower form of 
the recognitive moment does not differ from the mo- 
ment of the synthetic type of consciousness. Like the 
synthetic moment, the modifications are not effected con- 

384 



The Synthetic Recognitive Moment 385 

sciously in the moment. The modifications are cumula- 
tive, without there being direct awareness of them. As 
to awareness of the previous reproduction and recogni- 
tion each moment may be considered as isolated and 
separated. The history of the recurrences, of the re- 
production and recognition is not given in the conscious- 
ness of the recognitive moment. As in the synthetic 
moment, an external observer is required who should 
read off the history of the recognitive moment from the 
final forms taken by psycho-physiological and sensori- 
motor reactions. 

Expressed in a formula it may be said that each rep- 
resentation, each reproduction of the recognitive mo- 
ment, refers to the object A of the sensory state A which 
may be represented as A A . Symbolically represented 
the relations of the successive reproduced representa- 
tions to the object as presented in state A and to each 
other in order of their succession may be expressed by 
the following diagram: 




386 Normal and Abnormal Psychology 

In other words the representative states in the series 
of reproduction all refer to the original experience A A 
and each preceding state modifies the succeeding one, 
but the succeeding state does not include consciously the 
previous reproduction and recognition. The partial in- 
tersecting of the circles indicates that the successive 
states do not include their predecessors, but are only in- 
fluenced and modified by them. The state, however, 
gets enlarged the further situated it is in the progres- 
sion of the series. Each state inherits only the modifi- 
cations accumulated by the preceding ones, but it does 
not inherit the cognition or recognition of the state 
itself. 

In this respect the series of states going to make up 
the recognitive moment differs from that of synthetic 
type. The synthetic moment reproduces by reinstate- 
ment with modifications accumulated in the course of 
the process of reproductions. The recognitive moment 
on the contrary does not reproduce by reinstatement of 
presentation, but by representation. The preceding 
state need not be actually repeated, and if such a refer- 
ence is present it is represented. 

Representation is effected by different psychic ele- 
ments. The same or like elements need not be repro- 
duced in the moment of the recognitive type. In the 
recognitive moment of the stage considered by us such 
a reinstatement is altogether absent. The states follow- 
ing each other are different. Moreover they are isolated, 
disconnected in the series. The links in the series refer 
to the same object as presented, but they do not refer to 
each other in the order of their progression, state a 
does not refer to the state a that preceded it, nor does 
a refer to a 2 , nor a to a% and so on. The series of 



The Synthetic Recognitive Moment 387 

states of the recognitive moment in the stage under con- 
sideration do, however, effect modifications in the order 
of their succession, a modifies a, a modifies a\ a modi- 
fies a, and so on each preceding state modifying the 
succeeding one. 

The dog on seeing a person for the second 
or third time may recognize the friend of his mas- 
ter, but he does not remember that he has recog- 
nized him already on previous occasions. Similarly 
when the baby sees a strange person for the first time, it 
may become scared and begin to cry. Subsequent repe- 
tition of similar experiences may reduce or on the con- 
trary may increase the fear element, but the baby learns 
to know and recognize his man and the psycho-physio- 
logical and psycho-motor reactions follow as soon as the 
"man" is caught sight of. Reproduction and recogni- 
tion become easier, but it is questionable whether the 
baby, like the intelligent dog, in recognizing the person, 
is aware of having recognized the person on previous 
occasions. The dog and the child are aware of the per- 
son and recognize him, but they are not aware of the 
series of preceding recognitions. A form of moment- 
consciousness with a series of isolated reproductions and 
recognitions, but with accumulated modifications may 
be termed the synthetic accumulative recognitive mo- 
ment. 



CHAPTER XXIII 

THE SYNTHETIC MOMENT OF SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS 

IN the higher stages of the recognitive moment 
the states in the series are no longer isolated. Each 
succeeding state embraces or truer to say includes 
and represents the preceding one. The whole ser- 
ies is essentially an interconnected one. The states in 
the series not only refer to the original experience of the 
object as presented, but also to each other in the order 
of their succession. Let A be the original experience of 
which A is presentative and a is representative, then the 
state of the recognitive moment may be represented by 
a A . State a refers to # A , and the succeeding state a re- 
fers not only to a A , but also to a. The same holds true in 
the case of the other states, — a refers to a A and a and 
not only to a alone but also to a; a refers once more to 
a A and also to a, a\ a, and so on ; each succeeding state 
refers to the original experience and also to the preced- 
ing states of recognition. In other words, each state rep- 
resents not only the original sensory experience, but also 
some though not all of the preceding series of represen- 
tations. There is, in short, awareness in the act of rec- 
ognition. The preceding state modifies the succeeding 
one, and this latter is fully aware of the former. This 
awareness is present during the very occurrence of each 
state in the series. 

The reproduced state in its recognition recog- 

388 



The Synthetic Moment of Self-Consciousness 389 

nizes the object as presented to sense-experience, recog- 
nizes, or is aware at least, that it has had some such 
recognitions on previous occasions, and at the same time 
recognizes, or is aware of its present recognition. Such 
a recognitive moment, the highest of all the moments- 
consciousness, is characteristic of the fully developed 
adult human consciousness or of self-consciousness and 
may be termed the synthetic moment of self-conscious- 
ness. The synethetic moment of self-consciousness 
forms a series of selves — the present or the percipient 
self, the past or the perceived self and the intermediate 
selves connecting the two selves as termini, the whole 
forming a series synthetized by the life of the synthetic 
moment of self-consciousness. 

If we retain our previous denotation of objects and 
of the series of recognitive states and denote the recog- 
nitive reproduction by attaching the denotation of the 
presented object as index to the state then the state may 
be denoted by a A , the succeeding states in the simple rec- 
ognitive moment may be denoted by a A , «= A , as A , a A , 
a A , a A . The states in the series of the synthetic mo- 
ment of self-consciousness may then be represented by 
the following formula : 





a\ 




a A , a*, 






a\ 


#j, #2, as, 



and so on the last being extremely complicated. . . 
Graphically the synthetic moment of self-conscious- 
ness may be represented as follows ; 



39° Normal and Abnormal Psychology 




All along our analysis of reproduction we have at the 
same time by implication discussed the various types and 
forms of what may be conveniently termed as germinal 
memory in the states of consciousness of the lower ani- 
mals. Memory, however, is not present in the lower 
types of moment-consciousness. Memory really begins 
with the recognitive moment and reaches its full perfec- 
tion in the adult human consciousness, — in the synthetic 
moment of self-consciousness. It is only in the moment 
of self-consciousness that all the characteristics of mem- 
ory are to be formed, namely, reproduction; not rein- 
statement, but reproduction after the kind of the recog- 
nitive moment, recognition, definite localization in the 
past and finally awareness of its own activity, or rather 
self-awareness. Memory germinates and grows in the 
recognitive moment, and blossoms in the personality- 
moment. 



APPENDIX I 

CONSCIOUSNESS 

In opposition to the metaphysical view that there ex- 
ists one consciousness and a separate content, James in 
his article "Does Consciousness exist?" flatly denies the 
existence of such a consciousness. He lays stress on the 
fact that such a consciousness is of a purely hypothetical 
and speculative character. Psychologically speaking all 
there exists is thought, experience, while an abstract un- 
differentiated consciousness may as well be omitted 
from the scheme of things. All we deal with is mental 
facts. James ridicules the position of those who regard 
consciousness as being independent of content: "To 
consciousness as such nothing can happen, for timeless 
in itself, it is only a witness of happenings in time, in 
which it plays no part" . . . "Consciousness as 
such is entirely impersonal — 'self and its activities be- 
long to the content" . . . James' view is that in- 
stead of an impersonal consciousness we should substi- 
tute thought as a function of knowing (James's italics). 
"To deny plumply that 'consciousness' exists seems so 
absurd on the face of it — for undeniably 'thoughts' do 
exist — that I fear some readers will follow me no farth- 
er. Let me then immediately explain that I mean only 
to deny that the word stands for an entity, but to insist 
most emphatically that it does stand for a function. . . . 
That function is knowing" (James' italics). 

We can thus far agree with James. When however 
he begins to speculate on unitary stuff and pure simple 
experience which is both objective and subjective we 
must part company, for he leaves the domain of psy- 
chology and enters the domain of metaphysics. "My 
thesis is" he writes "that, if we start with the suppo- 
sition that there is only one primal stuff or material in 
the world, a stuff of which everything is composed, and 

391 



39 2 Appendix I 

if we call that stuff 'pure experience' then knowing can 
only be explained as a particular sort of relation towards 
one another into which portions of pure experience may 
enter." In this respect James approaches perilously 
close to Wundtian Voluntarism which he does not favor. 
It practically means double barrelled experience which 
on the one hand is objective while on the other it is sub- 
jective. As James puts it, the same experience is counted 
twice over in one stream which is external and the other 
which is internal. 

All objections urged against Voluntarism may be 
brought against this view which is really nothing but 
the voluntarism of Wundt under a different garb. We 
are not better off by the assumption of the same experi- 
ence participating in two different streams. We do not 
understand the streams any better by assuming differ- 
ences which really amount to the differences of matter 
and mind, or of matter and consciousness. 

James on the one hand is too metaphysical and on the 
other hand he wishes to eliminate the inactive, impassive 
consciousness of the idealists and of the Neo-Kantians. 
He is metaphysical in assuming a pure experience which 
is both material and mental and which in its purity is 
neither mental nor material. His true psychological 
sense tells him that an inactive, passive consciousness is 
a useless, futile assumption. James draws a sharp differ- 
ence between internal and external experience. "We 
find that there are some fires that will always burn sticks 
and always warm our bodies, and that there — are some 
waters that will always put out fires . . . Mental 
fire is what won't burn real sticks ; mental water is what 
won't necessarily (though of course it may) put out 
even a mental fire. Mental knives may be sharp, but they 
won't cut real wood . . ." In short, James him- 
self strongly contrasts the two sets of experiences. That 
is all that the psychologist requires. The rest of the 
speculation, — the identification of the two streams in 
one unitary, primitive stuff-experience does not belong 
to psychology as a science. 



Appendix I 393 

The whole view of James is metaphysical, and still 
with his clear psychological insight he cannot keep 
away from psychological facts. He shifts from meta- 
physics to psychology: "The stream of thinking" he 
says, "(which I recognize emphatically as a phenome- 
non) is only a careless name for what, when scrutinized, 
reveals itself as to consist chiefly of the stream of my 
breathing. The 'I think' which Kant said must be able 
to accompany all my objects, is the breath 'I breathe' 
which actually does accompany them. There are other 
internal facts besides breathing (intercephalic muscular 
adjustments . . .) and these increase the assets of 
'consciousness' so far as the latter is subject to imme- 
diate perception; but breath which was ever the original 
'spirit', breath moving outwards, between the glottis 
and the nostrils, is, I am persuaded, the essence out of 
which philosophers have construed the entity known to 
them as consciousness. That entity is fictitious while 
thoughts in the concrete are fully real. But thoughts in 
the concrete are made of the same stuff as things are." 
(James' italics). In this passage James as usual dis- 
plays his great psychological introspection which is un- 
fortunately complicated with metaphysical considera- 
tions. 

Of course, even from a purely psychological point of 
view we can hardly agree that sensations of respiration 
and intercephalic, muscular adjustments are alone suf- 
ficient as elements of general consciousness, for as Ri- 
bot and others have pointed out coenaesthetic sensa- 
tions, sensations coming from muscles, viscera, nerves, 
neurones, peripheral, central, and sympathetic nervous 
system, all enter as elements in the synthesis of con- 
sciousness. It may be claimed that the sensations point- 
ed out by James may be predominant, but this is rather 
questionable. However the case may be, the identifica- 
tion of matter and mind, one being objective and the 
other subjective thought is an adventure into the realms 
of metaphysics. 

James differentiates the fire that burns from the 



394 Appendix I 

fire that does not burn, the water that is really wet 
from the water which is not wet, the motion that obeys 
the laws of mechanics from the motion that does not 
obey Newton's laws. In order to constitute water the 
chemist does not mix oxygen with his thought of hydro- 
gen; in order again to constitute the idea of water the 
psychologist does not require tubes, retorts, so many 
volumes of gases of oxygen and hydrogen. The chem- 
ist does not put his ideas into his chemical compounds 
and the psychologist does not subject his mental states 
to chemical tests. It is only in metaphysics that the 
fundamental difference of mental states and physical ob- 
jects can be explained away in one unitary experience. 

I may add that James himself realized the truth of my 
contention, for in a private discussion with me he ac- 
knowledged that the view taken by him was purely 
metaphysical, that for the psychologist consciousness is 
as much of a reality as matter, atoms, molecule, ether, 
election, in short, as some form of material substance is 
requisite for the physicist. 

Recently some neo-realists attempted to identify con- 
sciousness with energy and especially with that form 
of energy known as potential energy. Now we can- 
not possibly identify mental states and processes with 
physical forms of energy, whether kinetic or potential. 
Arthur Gordon Webster in his "Dynamics" points out: 

ML 2 
"Kinetic energy is of the dimensions the same as 

those of work. Potential Energy is defined as work. 
The C.G.S. unit of energy is, therefore, the erg." 
If mental states or consciousness be potential energy 
of the physicist, the neo-realist should define it in 
terms of physical work. How many ergs are there 
in the ideas of virtue, goodness, and beauty? It 
is clear that if we use the term energy in the 
case of mental states or processes, we can do it only in 
a figurative way. Energy in psychology cannot be used 
in the same sense as the physicist uses the term in the 



Appendix I 395 

case of kinetic or potential energy. One cannot take 
the mass of the idea and multiply it on the square of its 
length. Such a procedure is meaningless, it is therefore 
idle to talk of consciousness as potential energy. Ener- 
gy is used in mental life as a figure of speech, as an il- 
lustration or substitute taken from physical life, but en- 
ergy and consciousness can not be identified. When we 
say that an argument is clear, we do not mean that there 
are no particles of dust in it, or that we can use it as a 
medium through which we can see objects distinctly; or 
when we say of a stupid person that he is dense, we do 
not mean that he has a high specific gravity. Conscious- 
ness is not physical energy. 

It is, however, quite possible that the potential ener- 
gy-consciousness of the neo-realist is neither the poten- 
tial energy of the physicist nor the consciousness of the 
psychologist. In this case we once more deal with some 
general metaphysical unifying substratum akin to the 
"pure experience" of James or to the "unitary experi- 
ence" of Wundtian Voluntarism; in other words, we 
deal here again with metaphysics and not with science. 
One cannot help agreeing with Calkins: "Of late years 
vigorous attempts have been made to eject the term 
consciousness from our vocabulary, but, in my opinion, 
these efforts, though richly significant, are metaphysical, 
not psychological, since all are mainly concerned to 
overcome the dualistic opposition of psychical to physi- 
cal. For whether accurate or inaccurate, the attempt 
to balance the account of thought and thing, that is, to 
distinguish psychical from physical, is concerned with 
the problem of ultimate reality, not with the explana- 
tion and description of observed facts, and is therefore 
metaphysical, not scientific in character." 

While on the one hand there is danger that psychol- 
ogy, dealing with mind, experience, knowledge, is apt to 
fall into epistemological and metaphysical pitfalls, on 
the other hand there is grave danger on the side of phy- 
siologists and biologists to identify psychic facts 
with physiological and biological facts. Recently 



39*6 Appendix I 

students of animal life have made violent efforts 
of merging psychology into biology. There is no 
doubt that motor reactions, adjustments, adapta- 
tions, behavior must be taken into consideration 
in the study of psychic facts, but motor manifesta- 
tions are of psychological significance only in so far 
as they lead to an interpretation of the inner subjective 
facts, facts of consciousness. This knowledge can only 
be given through an introspective interpretation of the 
facts of behavior. 

We can fully realize the non-psychological attitude 
when we find writers like Watson who wish to elimi- 
nate ideas or kindred mental states from psychology, or 
who like McDougall define psychology as a science of 
animal behavior. The peristaltic movements of the in- 
testines, the action of the heart, the lungs and the liver 
belong to animal activities and still they can hardly be 
included under psychic activities. McDougall thinks 
that "psychologists must cease to be content with the 
sterile and narrow conception of their science as the 
science of consciousness, and must boldy assert its claim 
to be the positive science of the mind in all its aspects 
and modes of functioning, or as I would prefer to say, 
the positive science of conduct or of behaviour." But 
even from McDougall's standpoint mere movements do 
not constitute psychological material, they are psycho- 
logical in so far as they are the indications of some in- 
ner subjective experience, such as sensations, feelings, 
emotions, strivings, conations. Now it is just these 
phenomena that form the subject matter of psychology. 
The psychologist regards behavior as the means for an 
introspective comprehension of what that behavior may 
indicate subjectively. 

Psychology, even from McDougall's standpoint, is 
after all the science of the mind, the science of con- 
sciousness which we can study through an introspective 
interpretation of motor reactions or behavior. Know- 
ing introspectively what fear is from our own introspec- 
tion and from the observation of the motor reactions the 



Appendix I 397 

instinct of fear gives rise to we can interpret similar re- 
actions or behavior in our neighbor or in our lower kin 
in the scale of evolution. 

It is interesting to observe that while on the one hand 
McDougall and others put motor reactions, conduct 
among psychic phenomena, on the other hand pure mo- 
tor phenomena and physiological activities with but the 
rudiments of psychic life are described "in terms of the 
three aspects of mental life of all mental processes — 
the cognitive, the effective and the conative,' 'terms which 
are really characteristic of the higher forms of mental 
life. According to McDougall even "the lower ani- 
mals perceive, feel, and act." This reminds one of 
Binet's micro-organisms possessing perception, feeling, 
and volition. 



APPENDIX II 

PHYSIOLOGICAL TRACES 

My attention was called to a very valuable paper 
"Further Studies in the Chemical Dynamics of the Cen- 
tral Nervous System," by T. Brailsford Robertson, pub- 
lished in the "Folio Neuro-Biologica" Band VII, 19 13. 
Robertson advances an extremely interesting hypothesis 
based on his bio-chemical researches. Basing himself 
on the fact that "the performance of mental work ini- 
tially facilitates its further performance and subse- 
quently depresses or fatigues it," he builds up a far 
reaching chemico-physiological hypothesis of the main 
phenomena of normal and abnormal mental life. I 
quote freely from his paper as it is of importance and 
highly stimulating to those who wish to go into the more 
technical scientific details of physiological research in 
regard to the phenomena of normal and abnormal 
mental function. 

"We meet therefore in the exercise of a given intel- 
lectual function with two apparently contradictory facts. 
Performance facilitates the exercise of the function and 
it likewise depresses the exercise of the function. We 
note furthermore that the facilitation and depression 
become evident at different periods of time, the former 
in the earlier and the latter in the later stages of per- 
formance. Now this phenomenon is not at all limited 
to the functions of the central nervous system. It is 
displayed in a very striking way by a variety of other 
functions, for instance in the contraction of the muscles 
in response to stimulation, whether direct or indirect. 
The phase of facilitation is displayed initially in the well 
known 'staircase phenomenon' and the phase of de- 
pression by rigidity and inability to contract to stimuli 
in response to stimuli which formerly evoked a maximal 
response. Again, as I have shown in a series of com- 

398 



Appendix II 399 

munications, a similar phenomenon is displayed in 
growth which initially undergoes acceleration and there- 
after slows down. Indeed acceleration and slowing 
may alternate a number of times in the same organism 
producing what I have termed 'growth cycles.' This 
type of phenomenon would appear very generally dis- 
played in the performance of life-activities, and in- 
deed I am inclined to think with Loeb that the self 
conserving character of the life-process will ultimately 
find its solution in the study of phenomena of this de- 
scription." 

This principle of "growth cycles" is significant, inas- 
much as it falls in line with the fundamental principle 
of reserve energy developed by James and myself from 
different standpoints. 

Robertson assumes the presence of physiological 
traces. "If the central nervous system conditions these 
phenomena at all, as we believe it does, then the passage 
of a stimulus through the central nervous system must 
lead through a changed condition which for the sake of 
forming a concrete image we may term in the language 
employed by Maudsley, the deposition of a trace or in 
the terminology of Exner, the excavation of a channel 
(Bahnung) . . . The dynamic conception of 
trace formation regards it as being due to a chemical 
alteration of cell-material along the path of the trace.' 
We have seen that trace formation is at first facilitated 
by the process which brings it about and later depressed. 
. At first a stimulus passes over the 'trace' more 
readily, because it has previously done so, but at a later 
stage it passes over it less and less readily until finally the 
resistance is so great as to almost inhibit its passage 
altogether. Recalling this fact we find ourselves in a po- 
sition to crystallize our problem and state it in the fol- 
lowing terms: 'What is the nature of a chemical reac- 
tion which at first takes place the more readily in con- 
sequence of having previously taken place, but at a later 
stage is inhibited by its own progress?' When this ques- 
tion is addressed to a physical chemist he does not hesi- 



400 Appendix II 

tate in replying: 'The reaction is either catenary (con- 
sists of two reactions the second of which uses up the 
product of the first) or it is autocatalytic, i. e. one of the 
products of the reaction accelerates the reaction.' No 
other chemical reactions are known to the experience of 
the chemist which display at any stage positive accelera- 
tion." 

The various experimental works carried out by Rob- 
ertson lead him to the rejection of catenary reactions 
and to the assumption of autocatalysis. Basing himself 
on this hypothesis of autocatalysis Robertson goes on to 
explain from a purely chemicho-physiological standpoint 
the phenomena of memory, of amnesia, of hypnosis and 
of allied phenomena. 

"Adopting the working hypothesis outlined above, 
we perceive that the canalisation hypothesis of Exner 
can now be expressed in a much more definite and con- 
crete form. Each incoming stimulus carves out for it- 
self in the central nervous system or deepens a pre-ex- 
isting channel in the central nervous system, but the 
channel is not a trough formed by the physical displace- 
ment of particles, it is a chemical channel, a thread or 
trace of the autocatalyst of central nervous activities, a 
thread which need not necessarily be supposed to be 
more than a few times the diameter of 'the sphere of 
molecular influence' in width. This deposit necessarily 
follows faithfully the path pursued by the original im- 
pulse and permits succeeding impulses to pass over the 
same path more readily by virtue of its presence. It is 
possessed of course of a definite spatial location, but, 
and this is a very important point, if by any chance it 
should be obliterated or destroyed it is not irreplaceable 
even if the continuity of the original path be forever in- 
terrupted. For it is only one of a conceivably enormous 
number of paths which might be traversed by a stimulus 
in its passage from one extremity of the original path 
to the other. Furthermore, the trace is capable of be- 
ing traversed by other subsequent or performed traces 
in as many different ways as the axons and ganglion cells 



Appendix II 401 

of the central nervous system intercommunicate, that is, 
so far as our knowledge extends, in a number of ways 
which for all practical purposes may be regarded as in- 
finite. 

"It must always be remembered that the trace consists 
of a deposit of an autocatalyst which we are obviously 
compelled to assume is an autocatalyst for the 
propagation of all impulses. It follows, therefore, that 
if a faint trace runs into, that is to say, traverses or in- 
tersects a well-marked trace, there will be a tendency for 
the impulse forming or following the faint trace to be 
deflected completely at or in a great part into the well 
marked trace. Indeed if the intersecting trace be suf- 
ficiently well marked and formed subsequently to the 
faint trace, we can see how impulses now arriving by way 
of the faint trace would become so largely deflected into 
the new well marked trace as to leave the parts of the 
faint trace remote from the point of intersection almost 
untraversed by any impulses at all. Instances of the 
mental correlates of these physico-chemical phenomena 
abound in our daily psychic life." 

In our next book on "Symptomatology" we shall re- 
fer to Robertson's application of his theory to the vari- 
ous phenomena of hypnosis, multiple personality, am- 
nesia and various forms of dissociation. I wish here to 
call attention to Robertson's valuable paper and point 
out his relation to the hypothesis of unconscious cere- 
bration on the one hand and to my psycho-biological 
doctrines of the moment-consciousness on the other. 

Robertson fully realizes the shortcomings and crude- 
ness of the physiological theories advanced by many 
physiologists to the effects of crowding out mental phe- 
nomena or consciousness, the very phenomena which the 
physiological theories were constructed to explain phy- 
siologically or rather to follow out physiologically step 
by step. As I have insisted in this volume a physiolog- 
ical correlative must be postulated for all phenomena of 
consciousness. This however is far from denying the 
mental facts themselves and thus being left with a phy- 



402 Appendix II 

siological hypothesis instead of the facts themselves 
for which this hypothesis was constructed. When a 
physiologist or biologist constructs a physiological hy- 
pothesis as a correlative of consciousness he is so carried 
away with it that he soon forgets the purpose of the 
hypothesis and proceeds to deny the main facts. From a 
purely scientific standpoint we must postulate that each 
and every act of experience, of consciousness has a phy- 
siological correlative, a point on which I have laid spec- 
ial stress. The reasoning of a Newton, Aristotle, and 
Plato as well as the moral thoughts and feelings of pro- 
phets and saints have their physiological correlatives. 
This however would not mean that all those experiences 
of genius, intellectual and moral, are unconscious cere- 
brations devoid of all conscious awareness. Under such 
conditions it is best to stick to the facts and regard the 
physiological hypothesis as a pretty speculation which 
may do more harm than good, inasmuch as it distracts 
the attention from the facts at issue. 

What I claim is that a good deal, if not the most of 
what is described as subconscious, is essentially of the 
same inner, subjective experience of what we otherwise 
describe as conscious awareness, inasmuch as introspec- 
tive experience, both direct and indirect, given by imme- 
diate experience and by memory, as well as by reactions 
and behavior are the same as found in fully conscious 
states. If we deny awareness to subconscious manifesta- 
tions, such as hypnosis and allied states, we should also 
call in question the awareness of all other similar states. 
It goes without saying as I have pointed that hypnosis 
and allied states being phenomena of consciousness must 
have a physiological correlative, but it is still to be 
proven that in such states there is only a physiological 
process without any conscious accompaniment. We may 
as well claim that the Iliad, Hamlet, the Principia, the 
Parthenon, Venus de Milo and other creations of genius 
are the result of physiological processes. In a certain 
sense the claim is true, there is a physiological correla- 
tive to the highest flight of genius, but it is man- 



Appendix II 403 

ifestly absurd to omit the conscious elements that go to 
constitute the very essense of what we regard as genius. 
Conscious and subconscious phenomena have alike phy- 
siological correlatives and both of them are character- 
ized by consciousness, awareness, and feeling. The 
subconscious is a consciousness, an other-consciousness , 
a consciousness other than the usual personal conscious- 
ness. 

Robertson is fully aware not only of the crude at- 
tempts of what he terms static physiological theories, 
but also of the fallacy of denying consciousness and in- 
stalling in its place physiological currents, traces, and 
deposits. "It must be admitted" he says, "that the 
sporadic attempts which have been made from time to 
time by biologists to advance interpretations of the phy- 
sical correlates of psychic phenomena have seldom been 
either well judged or attended by any measure of suc- 
cess." In another place he says; "The static conception 
as that developed by Munk and Ziehen, regards the 
'trace' as some structural modification, some physical al- 
teration, an alteration in other words in the distribution 
of cell-matter in space. I have elsewhere dwelt rather 
at length upon the more manifest objections to this 
point of view, at least in the crude form in which it has 
hitherto been presented. It would require each idea, 
mental image and conception to be very strictly local- 
ized. Such a localization of ideas has, of course, never 
been demonstrated." 

The "trace" is conceived by Robertson in dynamic 
terms. This dynamic "trace," the correlative of mem- 
ory, conscious and subconscious, is more or less per- 
manent, because "the persistence of memories proves 
that the 'trace,' whatever it may be is rather per- 
manent and only very slowly fades away." 

Robertson fully realizes the importance of the sub- 
conscious for the conscious activity. "The phenomena of 
subconscious memory reveal clearly that memories may 
persist from childhood to advanced maturity without 
intermediate self-conscious recollection to reinforce the 



404 Appendix II 

trace. Occasional subconscious recollection cannot of 
course be ruled out, but it must be rare in many cases, 
for otherwise, as Sidis has pointed out, our entire men- 
tal life would be occupied in recollecting." 

In speaking of the static physiological theories Rob- 
ertson says : "Sidis proceeds to dispose of all these 
theories collectively on the ground that a mere modi- 
fication left behind as a trace cannot possibly explain, 
memory, recollection, the fact of referring a particular 
bit of experience to an experience felt before." Robert- 
son fully sees the function of the physiological theories 
as correlatives of conscious states, not as substitutes. He 
realizes fully that the function of a good physiological 
theory of the physiological correlatives of conscious 
states is not the ruling out of the subjective phenomena 
which after all form the real material of investigation. 
He assumes the presence of consciousness as a datum to 
which he wishes to find a physiological correlative. 
"Such criticism" he goes on to say "is perfectly sound, if 
these theories are seriously advanced as 'explanations' 
(rather as substitutes as I would say considering the hy- 
pothesis of the subconscious advanced recently by some 
writers on the subject) of the subjective experience of 
memory. A subjective experience of recollection can no 
more be identified with a physical modification of a 
nerve element than the subjective experience of a given 
color can be identified with a particular wave length of 
light. But I submit that regarding memory from an 
objective standpoint as a pure objective fact (modifica- 
tion of the present as a result of previous reactions to 
stimuli) it demands objective interpretation with pre- 
cisely the same force as any other objective fact." 

That memory has physiological correlatives we must 
regard as one of the fundamental assumptions of psy- 
chology, both normal and abnormal. What I protest 
against is the metaphysical "Unconscious" which claims 
to take the place of subjective facts. The Unconscious 
(with a capital U) as formulated by Carpenter, Ziehen 
and by other modern writers, under the belief and pos- 



Appendix II 405 

sibly with the good intention of being more scientific, in- 
troduces Hartmanian metaphysics of the marvels of 
the Unconscious into psychic life. We must re- 
member once for all that "deposits of images 
in memory ganglion cells," "unconscious disposi- 
tions," "neurograms" and other kinds of figura- 
tive representations, are in the last resort figura- 
tive images which may help to picture the possibility 
of physiological correlatives of psychic states, but they 
cannot, from their very nature, replace the real facts, the 
facts of consciousness. As soon as such claim is made 
by the "Unconscious" it must be declared to be what it 
really is, namely a speculative hypothesis of certain 
mental phenomena which alone constitute the real facts. 

Perhaps it is in place to add a few words as to the 
hypothesis of autocatalysis in relation to what Robert- 
son discusses as Sidis' hypothesis of neuron disaggre- 
gation Robertson thinks that the theory of neuron dis- 
aggregation stated from the standpoint of neuron 
retraction should be abandoned. It seems to me 
however, that the theory of neuron disaggre- 
gation or of systemic neuron disaggregation does 
not depend on the theory of neuron retraction. The 
latter is provisional. Systems of functioning neurons 
may be thrown out of association due to changes of 
their thresholds. This rise and fall of threshold devel- 
oped in my Multiple Personality puts the hypothesis of 
neuron disaggregation on a more solid and more certain 
physiological basis. 

In fact the rise and fall of thresholds of neuron 
systems may be very well stated in Robertson's 
own hypothesis of autocatalysis. The theory of 
the rise and fall of thresholds is based on a series of 
known physiological and psychological facts. It is 
quite possible that the rise and fall of thresholds which 
gives rise to neuron disaggregations with its accompany- 
ing phenomena of dissociation are ultimately due to 
changes in the formation of systems of autocatalytic 
products. Should the latter hypothesis be proven I 



406 Appendix II 

think the theory of neuron disaggregation would rest on 
a sure chemico-physiological basis. 

The theory of neuron disaggregation may well 
be stated in Robertson's theory of autocatalysis 
correlative with psychic phenomena. In fact, Rob- 
ertson himself calls attention to the fact that his theory 
does not fundamentally clash with mine, the two may 
in fact be in full accord. "Abandonment of the postu- 
late of neuron disaggregation," (rather neuron retrac- 
tion) Robertson concludes his paper, "does not in the 
least involve, however, rejection of the really essential 
features of Sidis' hypothesis of 'moment consciousness.' 
My hypothesis does not traverse the hypothesis of Sidis, 
it merely supplements it and renders necessary a read- 
justment of the physiological equivalents of his termi- 
nology. From Sidis' point of view the full waking con- 
sciousness may be likened to a pyramid having for its 
base a greater or smaller number of 'moments conscious- 
ness.' From my point of view it may be likened to a 
complicated textile fabric built up out of the psychical 
correlates of a greater or smaller number of intercon- 
nected traces. It is obvious that for the purpose of 
purely psychological analysis the two hypotheses are al- 
most completely interchangeable; but for Sidis' 'mo- 
ments consciousness' we must read not 'neurones, 5 but 
'traces,' 'channels,' or 'deposits of autocatalyst.' " 

The criticism passed on Robertson's theory that it 
fails to account for conservation of memory is unjusti- 
fied. Robertson's theory is fully adequate to explain 
conservation of memories. 



INDEX 



Abnormal, 47, 48 

moment, 283 

psychology, 119, 122, 203, 
230 

type, 45, 47, 48 
Absence of controlling agency, 

294 
Absolute moment, 23 

desultory moment, 230, 
240 
Accidental processes, 96 

variations, 96, 98 
Accumulative moment, 248 

moment, simple, 241 
Acquired characters, 319, 320 
Activity, 105 

change of, 26 

mental, 79, 97, 186 

mental, of moment, 287, 
288, 290, 293 
Adaptation, 88 
Aesthetic, 18 
Affect, 44 
Affection, 44 
Affective state, 134 
Agency, absence of controlling, 

294 
Aggregate, moment, 248, 254, 
255, 257, 294, 311, 3H 

threshold of, 304 
Amnesia, 46, 284, 288, 289, 
290, 291, 325 

post-hypnotic, 305, 306 
Amorphous life, 324 

psychosis, 324 
Animal life, 38 
Antechamber of consciousness, 

97, 98 



Aphasia, 46 
Arc, reflex, 12 
Aspect, social, 27 

teleological, 90, 91, 95 
Assimilation by moment, 272, 
273, 275, 277, 282, 283, 
284 
Assimilation, power of, 275, 

_ 277, 284 
Association, contiguity of, 359, 
361 
contrast, 359, 361 
immediate, 210, 212 
indissoluble, 208 
mediate, 209 
by resemblance, 359, 361 
by similarity, 363 
Assumption, 16, 69, 70, 203, 

206 
Attention, process of, 99 
Attributes, sensory, 160, 163 
Automatic, recognitive moment, 

370 
Automatism, 186, 192, 249, 271, 
285 
psychology, 190 

Baldwin, 164, 166, 167, 168, 

169, 172 
Behavior, 119 

hypothesis, 42 
Behaviorist, views of, 43 
Bergson, 119, 139, 140, 1 41, 

203, 204,372, 373, 374 
Biological activity, 301, 302, 

303 
process, 87, 90, 91, 92, 
95, 96, 138 



407 



408 



Index 



Biosis, 39 

Brain currents, 190 

currents, localization of, 
24 
Biichner, 57 

Cabanis, 57 
Causal necessity, 85 
Causation, efficient, 88, 92 

final, 88 

principle of efficient, 91 

purpose, 88 
Cause, the, 101 
Censor, 101 
Central elements, 134, 135 

experience, 235, 236 
Cerebration, unconscious, 175, 
176, 177, 178, 180, 183, 
184 
Chance, 100 

thought, 99 
Chemo taxis, 130 
Co-conscious, the, 207 
Coefficient, ideational, 165, 1 70 

memory, 166 

of reality, 166, 168 

of representation, 165 

sensory, 165, 170 
Coexistent, 80, HO 
Cognition, immediate, 365 

mediate, 365 
Complexes, mental suppressed, 

198, I99> 200, 203 
Compound, perceptual, 151 

psychic, 133 

synthetic moment, 241, 

337, 34-1, 343 

synthetic moment, accu- 
mulative, 341, 343 
Conditional reflexes, 21 1 

stimulus, 211 



Consciousness, 13, 15, 19, 20, 
23, 24, 30, 31, 32, 37, 
41, 42, 59, 60, 62, 71, 
79, 82, 83, 98, 106, 107, 
108, in, 112, 113, 133, 
136, 184, 188, 189, 196, 
206, 229, 230, 231, 290, 
296 

antechamber of, 97 

content of, 186 

desultory, 256, 257, 322 
323 

double, 290 

figured, 152 

focus of, 258, 259, 279, 
280, 281 

moment, 214, 229, 232, 
233, 234, 235 

passive, 194 

selective, 96 
Constellation of moments, 254, 

255 
Content, 49, 231 

mental, 49, 194, 195, 231 
of the precept, 132 
psychic, 46 
Content of conscience, 14, 15, 

186 
Contiguity of association, 359 
Continuity, mental, 287, 293 
principles of, 82, 83, 86, 
96 
Contrast, association of, 359, 

361 
Controlling agency, absence of, 

294 

Corporeal individual, 37 
Criterion of perceptive truth, 

165 
Cross section of moment, 236 
Cumulation, process of, 263 
Currents, brain, 190 



Index 



409 



Darwin, 47, 90 

Data of science, 15 

Day reveries, 99 

Degeneration, mental, 296 
process of, 313, 315 

Delusion, the, 283, 284 

Descartes, 42, 186 

Desire, 109 

Desultory moment, 239, 243, 
323, 327, 329, 343, 344, 
345, 346, 347, 348, 349, 
365, 377 

Desultory moment of conscious- 
ness, 256, 257, 322, 323 

Desultory moment of self-con- 
sciousness, 245 

Desultory moment, recurrent, 

324 
Desultory type, 346 
Disaggregation, 308, 309 
mental, 310, 313 
of moments, 308 
of moments, law of, 309, 

3ii, 313 
of moments, process of, 
296 
Diseases, functional, 75, 76 
mental, 311, 314 
psychopathic, 271, 284 
Dissociated moment, 350 
Dissociation, 76, 150, 153, 158, 
159, 163, 186, 188, 189, 
197, 216, 217, 223, 230, 
271, 284, 295, 308, 369, 
375 
Dissolution, process of, 314 
Disturbance, psychopathic, 296 
Doctrine, Spinozistic, 64 
Dominant moment, 284 
Double consciousness, 290 
Dreams, 99, 307 



Dynamogenesis, 217 

of dissociation, 295, 303, 
304 

Ebbinghaus, 49 

Efficient causation, principle of, 

9i 
Elements of affective state, 134, 

137 
central, 134, 135 
freedom of, 354, 355 
nuclei, 127, 131, 132, 

135, 136 
of objective state primary, 

137 
sensory, primary, 137, 319 
sensory, secondary, 137, 
_ 138, 145, 319 
Emotion, 44 
Emotional states, 113 

tones, 134 
Energy, 20, 21, 79, 80, 128, 
216, 218, 123, 225 
kinetic, 20 
nervous, 218 
neuron, 218 
principle of subconscious, 

270, 277 
reserve, 219, 220, 221, 
222, 223, 224, 225, 226 
Epilepsy, equivalent of, 218 
idiopathic, 202 
psychic, 217, 218, 291, 
295 
Epistemology, 27, 30,' no, 118 
Equivalent of epilepsy, 21 8 
Errors, 99 

Essence of percept, 132 
Ethics, 18 
Evolution, 47, 91, 254, 275, 285 



4io 



Index 



Experience, immediate, 69, 70 

mediate, 70 

unitory, 57, 68, 69 
External reality, 26, 130, 164, 
166, 171, 172, 182, 183 
Externality, 27 

Faculty hypothesis, 358 
Faith, realm of, 196 
Fallacious percept, 141 
Fallacy, 21, 24, 35, 190 

psychological, 35, 113, 
114, 117, 122, 125, 171, 

345 
psychologist's, 229 
Familiarity, 367, 368, 369, 371, 

372 
Family moment, 274 
Fatigue, 303 

Fechner, 59, 298, 300, 301 
Figured consciousness, 152 
Finality, 83, 88, 89 
principle of, 83 
Focus of consciousness, 258, 259, 

279, 280, 281 
Food instincts, 310, 311 
Forgetfulness, 203 
Free association, 356, 357 
aggregate, 304, 305 
Function of moment, 260, 265, 

290, 294, 327, 336 
of percept, 128 

of substitution, 162, 163 
periodicity of, 217, 218 
Functional diseases, 75, 76 

psychosis, 154, 163, 192, 
304 

Galton, 97 

Gap, mental, 293 

classification of, 293 
psychic, 287, 288, 290, 

291, 292, 293 



Generic recognition, 242, 243, 

244 
Genius, 99 
Geometry, 11, 14 
Growth of moment, 260, 262, 

263 
Guesses, method of, 280 

Habit, 214, 312, 319, 345 
Hallucinations, 27, 141, 142, 
146, 149, 153, 154, 155, 
156, 158, 164, 165, 171 
Hartley, 125, 361 
Herbert, 199, 200 
High type moment, 250, 251, 

252, 253 
Hobbs, 126 

Hoffding, 170, 205, 207 
Hume, 125 
Hypnogogic, 39 
Hypnoidal state, 99, 212, 279, 
280, 282, 291, 325, 349 
Hypnoidic state, 346 
Hypnoidization, 282 
Hypnosis, 46, 84, 176, 177, 
179, 188, 271, 279, 280, 
285, 287, 290, 291, 305, 
349 
Hypnotic individuality, 189 

faculty, 358 
Hypothesis, 201, 202 
faculty, 358 
materialistic, 57 
psychological, 73 
psycho-physiological, 73 
spiritualistic, 51, 52 
transmission, 59, 61 

Ideas, 44, 66, 97, 114, 115, 116, 
117, 120, 124, 125, 135, 
138, 141, 142, 147, 164, 
190, 230, 242, 360, 361 

painful, 203 

pleasurable, 203 



Index 



411 



Images, 43, 122, 123, 125, 135, 
138, 139, 140, 141, 142, 
147, 159, 160, 164, 165, 
166, 169, 170, 171, 172, 
204, 230, 361 

memory, 166 

object, 204 

subjective, 204 

substitution by, 162, 163 
Immediate association, 2IO, 212 

experience, 69 
Imperative concepts, 349 

impulses, 295 
Impulses, imperative, 295 

uncontrollable, 349 
Increase of sensation, 300, 302 
Indissoluble association, 208 
Individual, 89, 90 

corporeal, 37 
Individuality, psychic, 231 
Inhibition, 214, 215, 216, 219, 

223, 225 
Insistent ideas, 170 
Instinctive reaction, 268, 269 
Instincts, 309, 310 

food, 310, 311 

periodic, 217 

sex, 310, 311 

social, 310, 311 
Intellect, realms of, 196 
Intensity, 160, 161, 162, 163 

of stimulation, 297 
Intermediate links, 208, 209, 

210 

mental links, 212 
Internal reality, 171 
Introspection, 44, 192 
Investigation, methods of, 49 
Irradiation, 146, 152, 153, 304 

James, William, 59, 122, 152, 
200, 270, 374 

Kinetic energy, 20 



Kulpe, 120 

Ladd, 52 

Lamark, 91 

Law of degeneration, 313, 315 

of disaggregation, 309, 311, 
312 

of thresholds, 215 

Weber's, 297, 298 
Life, 87 

amorphous, 324 

animal, 38 

mental, 100, 101 

moral, 310, 311, 312 

personal, 310, 311, 312 

processes, 87 

psychic, 24, 230, 231 
Likeness, relation of, 363 
Logic, 18, 22 

Low types of moment, 250, 251, 
252, 253, 257, 285, 286 

Mach, 102 
Maimon, 187 
Mania, 314 
Material nature, 19 
Materialistic hypothesis, 57 
Matter, 20, 24, 57, 204 
Mechanics, 15, 20 
Mechanism, definition of, 90 
Mediate association, 209 

experience, 70 
Melancholia, 311, 314 
Meltzer, 223 

Memory, 46, 49, 139, 140, 182, 
191, 192, 203, 289, 290, 
374, 390 

image, 166 
Mental activity, 79, 97 

complexes, suppressed, 198, 
199, 200, 203 

content, 194, 195 
271, 287 



412 



Index 



Mental continuity,236, 249, 253 
degeneration, 286 
disaggregation, 310, 313 
diseases, 311, 314 
energy, 21 
gap, 293 
life, 100, 101 
movement, 278 
process, 16, 80, 87 
purpose, 315 
selection, 162 
state, 37 

synthesis, 53, 54, 294 
synthesis, principles of, 114 
system, 162, 213, 214 
Metaphysics, 15, 22, 23, 29, 30, 

57, 110, 118 
Method of biology, 50 
of content, 46 
of function, 46 
of guesses, 280 
of psychology, 50 
Mill, J. S., 120, 202 
Mind, 24, 33 
Modification of moment, 262, 

3i8, 334, 337 
Moleschott, 57 
Moment absolute, 239 

absolute desultory, 230, 

240 
aggregate, 254, 255, 257, 

294, 304, 305, 307, 3ii, 

314 
assimilation by, 272, 273, 

275, 276, 277, 282, 283, 

284 
assimilative power of, 275, 

277, 284 
compound synthetic, 241 
consciousness, 66, 116, 

214, 229, 232, 233, 234, 

235, 236, 249, 260, 265, 

271, 272, 275, 277 



Moment, cross section of, 236 
cumulative, 240, 387 
desultory, 239, 243, 323, 

327, 329, 344, 346, 347 

desultory of self-conscious- 
ness, 245 

disaggregation, 295, 308, 

dominant, 284 

family, 274 

forces, 259 

function of, 260, 327, 328, 
336 

generic, recognitive, 243, 
244 

low forms of, 257, 258 

percept, 260, 277 

perceptual, 237, 260, 273 

purpose of, 260 

recognitive, 241, 243, 
244, 376, 377, 378, 380, 
381, 382, 383, 384, 385, 
386, 388, 389 

recognitive of self -con- 
sciousness, 345 

recurrent, 324 

reflex, 239, 240, 317, 321, 
322 

representative, 381, 386 

reproductive, 264, 265, 
317, 3i8 

self-consciousness, 388, 389, 
390 _ 

sensitivity of, 266 

simple, accumulative, 241 

single, synthetic,_ 337, 338 

specific, recognitive, 242, 
243, 244, 245 

stage, 260, 277 

structure of, 237 

synthetic, 240, 241, 326 
327, 329, 330, 33i, 332, 
336, 337, 33^, 341, 342, 
343, 344, 345, 346, 347, 



Index 



413 



Moment, synthetic, 348, 350, 
376, 384, 386, 388 
synthetic compound ac- 
cumulative, 341, 343 
synthetic of self-conscious- 
ness, 245 
threshold, 214, 216, 220, 

297, 308 
type of, 239, 253 
Moments, abnormal, 283 
constellation of, 254,255 
inter-relation of, 294 
organization of, 254 
subconscious, 277, 279 
submerged, 259 
Multiple personality, 290 
Multiplicity, 115, 116 
Mysticism, 197 

Narcosis, 312 

Natural selection, 96, 201, 221, 
225, 273, 307, 309, 319, 
329, 337, 34i, 345 

Nature of things, 204 

Necessity, causal, 85 
principal, 85 

Nervous energy, 218, 219, 220 

Neurasthenia, 223, 226 

Neuron aggregate, 218 

Neurosis, 24, 39, 78 

Normal, the, 45, 47, 48 

Normal psychology, 200 

Nuclei elements, 127, 131, 135, 
136 

Object, community of, 27 
Objective images, 204 

time, 244 
Ontogenesis, 249, 252, 256, 
257, 268, 285, 310, 331 
Ontogenetic series, 1 3 
Organic unity, 90, 91, 263 
Organism, definition of, 90 



Overaction, 295 

Pain, 202, 203 

Painful ideas, 203 

Parallelism, 64, 78 

Paranoia, 283 

Pathological states, 346 

Pathology, 74, 103 

Pavlow, 210, 211, 212, 271 

Pearson, 103 

Percept, 89, 126, 128, 130, 131, 

133, 135, 137, 138, 144, 
149, 150, 159, 165, 171, 
172, 174, 276 
Perception, content of, 13.1 

essence of, 132 

function of, 138 

structure of, 127 

theory of, 119 
Perceptual compound, 151 

moment, 237 

synthesis, 150 
Periodicity of function, 218 
Personality, 28, 192, 375 
Persons, 27, 28 
Pffefer, 302, 303 
Philosophy, 16, 22 
Phylogenesis, 249, 252, 309, 
329, 331, 338 

object, 29, 30 
Physical phenomena, 26 

process, 84, 85 

series, 78, 87 

universe, 29 
Physiology, 86 
Plato, 170, 175 
Pleasurable ideas, 203 
Post-hypnotic amnesia, 305 

suggestion, 217 
Postulate, 16, 17, 22, 23, 30, 
67, 82, 106, no, in, 
112 

of psychology, 67, 68, 106 



414 



Index 



Precept, social, 26 
Presentations, 351, 356 
Presentative elements, 352, 353 
Primary elements of objective 

state, 137 
Principle of continuity, 83, 86 

of efficient causation, 91 
92 

of finality, 83 

of finiteness, 83 

of necessity, 85, 86 

of reserve energy, 219 
Processes, accidental, 96 

accumulative, 263 

biological, 87, 91 

mental, 16, 80, 87 

psychic, 26, 84, 85, 87, 
107 

psychological, 96 
Psychasthenia, 223, 226 
Psychic compound, 133 

content, 49, 231 

epilepsy, 218, 292 

gap, 287, 290, 291 

modification, 265 

object, 29, 30 

phenomena, 26 

postulate, 106 

process, 24, 25, 26, 76, 
82, 83, 84, 85, 87, 105, 
112, 135 

series, 78 

state, 31 
Psychiatry, 74 

Psycho-biological element, 319 
Psychological fallacy, 35, 171, 
172 

hypothesis, 73 

laws, 16 

methods, 50 

processes, 26 
Psychology, 13, 14, 16, 17, 18, 
19, 20, 21, 30, 3i> 32, 



Psychology, 36, 37, 39, 40, 51, 

57, 61, 69, 71, 72, 81, 

86, 92, 106, 107, no, 

in, 112, 117 

abnormal, 119, 122, 203, 

230 
automatism, 190 
sources of, 40 
Psychopathic, diseases, 84, 212 
disturbance, 296 
maladies, 311 
state, 350 
Psychopathology, 75, 175, 220 
Psycho-physical relation, 109 
Psycho-physiological hypothesis, 

73 
relation, 109 
Psychosis, 24, 39, 78, 324 

functional, 163 
Purpose, 38, 90, 91, 95, 99, 

100, 135, 315 
Purposive life, 38 

Reaction, 37, 128, 130, 136, 
188, 213, 260, 261, 262, 
263, 266, 267, 268, 269, 
270, 271, 272, 273, 274, 
275, 294, 3H, 315, 333, 
336, 338, 341, 342, 346, 
347 

Reality, 23, 33 

external, 130, 164, 166, 
171, 172, 174, 182, 183 

Recognition, 182, 183, 242, 244, 
265, 363, 366, 367, 368, 
369, 371, 372, 373, 374, 

375, 376, 377, 382, 383, 
384, 385, 386, 387, 388, 
3?9 

Recognitive, element, 182 

moment, 241, 324, 370, 

376, 378, 380 
moment, threshold, 246 



Indei 



415 



Recurrent moment, 324 
Reductive, the, 217 
Reflex arc, 12 

moment, 239, 317, 321 
Reflexes, 255, 256, 257 

unconditional, 21 1 
Reinstatement, 343, 344, 345, 
346, 347, 349, 350, 351, 
390 
Relation, psycho-physical, 109 

psycho-physiological, 109 

type of, 11, 12, 13 
Representation, 160, 165, 351, 

353, 356, 359, 361, 363 
law of, 359 

Reproduction, 239, 240, 241, 
318, 323, 324, 325, 326, 
327, 328, 343, 346, 350, 
351, 376, 377, 378, 380, 
384, 385, 386, 387, 390 

Reproductive moment, 264 

Reserve energy, 219, 221, 225, 
226 
principles of, 219 

Ribot, 182, 288 

Rise of threshold, 213, 215, 221, 
246, 299, 303 

Routine of experience, 104 

Savadsky, 211 
Science, 11, 13, 16, 21 
Secondary consciousness, 181 
Selection, principle of, 285 
Selective consciousness, 96 
Self, 175 

Self-consciousness, 175, 176, 
205, 206, 208, 229, 231, 
232, 375, 388, 389 
Self -cosmic, 197 
Self-preservation, 315 



Sensation, 20, 138, 140, 147, 
148, 149, 151, 160, 163, 
164, 166, 169, 171, 173 

centrally excited, 121 

motor character of, 141 

threshold of, 298, 299, 
301, 302 

unit of, 299, 301 
Sense of reality, 173, 174 

of perceptual truth, 165 
Sensitivity, condition of, 213 
Sensory coefficient, 165, 170 
Sensory elements, primary, 137 

elements, secondary, 137, 
138, 145 
Sequence, causal, 105 

invariable, 101, no 

necessary, 105, no 
Series, physical, 78, 87 

psychic, 78 
Setting, 370, 371, 372, 374, 375 
Signal of reality, 135 
Similarity, 361, 362, 363 

association of, 363 
Simple synthetic moment, 337 
Sleep, 83, 84, 99, 108 
Sociality, 172 

Somnambulism, 287, 290, 291 
Soul, 52 

hypothesis, 55, 56, 57 
Soul-consciousness, 194, 195 
Sources of psychology, 40 
Specific, recognitive moment, 

243 

Spencer, 122 
Spinoza, 122 
Spinozistic doctrine, 64 
Spontaneous variation, 95, 243 
Stage, moment, 260, 277 
States, pathological, 346 

psychic, 31 

psychopathic, 350 
Stimulation, 308, 309 



416 



Index 



Stimulus threshold, 214, 298 
Structure of moment, 237 
Subconsciousness, 84, 175, 184, 

185, 186, 191, 193, 194. 

195, 196, 197, 198, 204, 

205, 206, 207, 208, 212, 

217, 276, 277, 278, 279, 

280, 281, 282, 296, 349, 

350 
Subject, the, 231, 235 
Suggestion, hypnotic, 176 

post-hypnotic, 176 
Sully, 120 

Suppression, theory of, 203 
Synaesthesia, 152 
Synthesis, 92, 116, 117, 133, 

152, 214, 218, 233, 235, 

263, 275 
mental, 17, 53, 113 
Synthetic moment, 240, 326, 

327, 329, 332, 350, 365, 

387, 388 
moment compound, 337, 

341, 343 
moment of self-conscious- 
ness, 245 
Synthetic type of consciousness, 

381 
Synthetic unity, 116, 230 
System, mental, 163, 213, 214 

Taine, 120 
Teleology, 92, 93, 95 
Theory of suppression, 203 
Things, 27 
Thoughts, 34, 35, 42 
Threshold, 54, 213, 215, 221, 
223 

aggregate, 304 

fatigue, 303 

moment, 216, 297 

of sensation, 298, 299, 
301, 302 



Threshold, rise of, 213, 215, 221, 

246, 299, 303 

stimulus, 214, 298, 304 

theory of, 175 
Time, objective, 244 
Transmission hypothesis, 59, 61 
Tropism, 130, 187 
Type, abnormal, 45, 47, 48 

moment, 253 

relation, 11, 12, 13 

synthetic, 381 

Unconditional reflexes, 21 1 

stimulus, 211 
Unconscious, the, 185, 198, 199, 
202, 205, 207, 212 

phonation, 155, 156, 157, 
158 
Uniformity, no, III 
Unit of sensation, 299, 301 
Unitary experience, 57 
Unity, synthetic, 116 

Variation, 319, 337 
accidental, 96, 98 
spontaneous, 95, 96 

Views of behaviorist, 43 

Vividness, 160, 161, 162, 163 

Vivisection, 48 

Volition, 83, 230 

Voluntarism, 67 

Voluntaristic school, 64 

Watson, 42, 43, 44 
Weber, 298 

Weber-Fechner law, 300 
Willers, 28 
World of appreciation, 196 

description, 196 
Wundt, 209 

Ziehen, 176 



